


Stammtisch

by chaya



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Surprise Trundle Beds, Tail Sex, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-05-28 23:29:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 28,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15060152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaya/pseuds/chaya
Summary: Someone asked for "The Nein's first experience in Mordenkainen's mansion after Caleb learns to cast it". This is literal world-building so of COURSE it got really long and involved.





	1. Chapter 1

In retrospect, a lot of his strange behavior makes sense.

Caleb starts searching bookshops for illustrations of what ship interiors look like. He doesn’t buy any literature on architecture or design, but he definitely gets Jester’s help in stalling the salesman while he skims and memorizes as fast as he can.

“Is there something arcane about it?” Beau asks one day, when she catches Caleb staring at a stained glass window.

“Hmm?” he says distractedly. “Oh. No, it is just… very colorful. Nott,” he raises his voice a little, “do you like it?”

Nott looks over from the other side of the street. “I mean, it’s very pretty,” she calls, “but we’re supposed to be getting horse blankets, and that won’t fit in the cart anyway.”

Caleb chuckles to himself. “I suppose she’s right.”

**

It’s after a bad fight that Fjord finally brings up the spell again:

“I know it must be a pretty complex spell, Caleb, but is there any chance you could make that… that pocket dimension… house… thing? We could use a safe place right now, I don’t think we can be sure another wave of goblins won’t come along sooner or later. We don’t even have anything on the cart worth them stealing.”

“Ja, I…” Caleb gets a look that the team has gotten very familiar with - distant, calculating, like he’s arranging tiny blocks that are both very far away and right in front of his eyes. “It’s not done,” he admits, after a long pause.

Nott steps in. “We’ll make do without it. I can take first watch, and we can use Yasha’s idea and dig into the hill, right? Nobody will see us until they’re right on us, and goblin hoards are noisy.”

Mollymauk watches several expressions flash across Caleb’s face in succession. “I can do it,” he mumbles finally. “It’s not done, but it can be a safe place.”

“When you say ‘not done’,” Jester says slowly, “do you mean, like, there is no roof, and we will be looking out into, um, maybe a spooky empty sky?”

“That actually sounds amazing,” Molly admits, and Beau thinks about it and nods.

“Yeah, actually, Caleb, if it’s like that, let’s do it.”

“ _Let’s do it_ ,” Kiri echoes, feet kicking out excitedly from her spot on the cart.

“There is a _roof,_ ” Caleb mutters, blushing. He rummages through his coat and pulls out something small and ivory that he sets on the ground. “A roof, walls, floorboards, a bar, a Stammtisch, I… I haven’t managed to make any people yet, it is such a strange…”

His voice lowers and his mutterings turn into incantations. “Did he say _people_?” Yasha asks at Molly’s ear, and he gives her a ‘yikes’ face and shrugs.

“I’m happy with whatever is safe, it doesn’t have to be fancy.” Fjord crosses his arms and looks down at Nott, who seems fairly mollified by this statement.

“It will be great,” she agrees with a stubborn tilt of her chin. Yasha and Beau sit watch into the darkness of the forest while the spell is cast. Molly elects to watch Caleb. The man’s fingers are crossing over each other, drawing sigils in the moss, creating a complex world of lines around what appears to be a tiny ivory door.

**

Molly blinks several times a minute later, because when Caleb starts to get to his feet, he is getting to his feet in front of a beautiful oak door that wasn’t there the second before. “Is that it?” he asks, startled. “Did it- it’s only supposed to be a door, right?”

“Here, just a door.” Caleb rubs his chin and looks at it with severe criticism, walking around it twice. “Okay, everyone,” he gestures for them to come in. “Just so we are clear, the door works like a door for us, but only because I have made it with you in mind. So, do not worry, nobody who is not invited can step through here.” His brows come together. “But. I do want to go through first, and make sure everything is okay. If I do not come back out in, say, two minutes? Do not follow me in, that means I stepped into nothingness or something, and you would too.”

Several people are yelling for clarification at the same time, but it’s too late - Caleb has slipped through the door and shut it behind him. There’s the sound of struggling behind Molly and he looks back to see that Fjord and Beau are physically restraining Nott.

“Let me go after him!” She’s yelling, trying to squirm her arm free of Fjord’s grip. Yasha walks over and grabs a flailing limb to help.

“If he really did mess the spell up, there’s nothing any of us can do to help him,” Fjord says tightly. “I’m freaking the fuck out too, if it helps. If I knew it was that risky, I would never have - _gods DAMN it_ -” He flinches back and holds his nose, which Nott managed to throw her elbow into, and Jester has to step in and scoop her up like a raging cat before she gets just within reach of the handle.

“The door looks fine,” Molly points out loudly, reassuring himself as much as the others. “The hinges worked, the handle worked, Caleb’s smart, he definitely remembered to include air and… gravity… and whatever a Stammtisch is… does anyone, hey, does anyone know what a Stammtisch is?”

Everyone is silent for a minute.

“ _We can push some tables together_ ,” Kiri says in Caleb’s voice, seemingly randomly. It makes everyone jump. Jester scowls sadly and shakes her head.

“Kiri, not right now please!”

She tucks her beak down. “ _Sorry_ ,” she says in Beau’s voice, and Molly gets a sudden flashback to the moment Beau said that, having fumbled her aim and thrown a lit explosive into a pile of hay instead of through a window. The strangeness of the replay is almost enough to pull him out of the grim, heart-in-stomach moment of waiting.

“We could knock, maybe,” Jester says. “Maybe he could yell through the dimension and the door? That he is okay?”

Beau looks like she’s considering it when the knob turns and Caleb reappears in the doorway. A quick gust of unfamiliar air washes out into the forest - wood smoke, ale, and something roasting. Molly is so shocked to see him alive and whole that he doesn’t even think to look past him.

“Caleb!” Nott shouts, and launches herself into his arms. He stumbles back a step as he catches her, holding her up under her arms like one would a child.

“Nott, what happened? Have you been _crying?_ ”

“Are you okay!?”

“Ja, I’m fine! It worked, the food is here, it seems to work,”

“How could you say something like that and then disappear!?”

“Tut mir Leid, I’ve been so wrapped up in my own head trying to piece all this together, sometimes I lose my head a little, I promise I am fine, it’s…” Caleb gathers himself and sets Nott down, taking a deep breath. “You are all invited to come in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with all my CR work, it's probably showing up on [ivadeshin](https://ivadeshin.tumblr.com/) first, then trickling over here. (Come say hi!) Chapters are probably going to be shorter than usual because it's going to sync with my reblog post system, for my own sanity.
> 
> Much love to CR readers, who have been so sweet and encouraging! <3


	2. Chapter 2

Nott looks up at Caleb’s face a moment before walking past him and disappearing into the… pub? It looks like a pub in there. Jester is bouncing on her toes and hops in as soon as possible, and as Caleb holds the door for Kiri, Fjord, and Beau, Molly realizes that Yasha’s still at his side.

“Did you ever think you’d do something so strange?” she says quietly.

“I told you,” he says, purposefully misinterpreting, “I haven’t made a move on anyone in the group.”

It takes her a moment, and then she snorts fondly, clapping him on the shoulder before walking past him and nodding to Caleb as she passes him.

Molly gets himself together. “I do hope our accommodations are adequate,” he drawls, and Caleb makes a satisfyingly strangled mutter as Molly steps in.

It’s extremely alien and very familiar at once - while the room is definitely modeled after a higher-end pub, there are several elements that aren’t familiar to Mollymauk at all, although it’s hard to really note them when Kiri has climbed onto an almost comically large round table by the front and is reaching excitedly up at the exposed beams of the ceiling.

“ _Let’s go there_ ,” she’s shouting in Jester’s voice, and does a little hop. Jester herself makes a face like she’s not sure, and Beau is already throwing a leg onto the table to get up and help Kiri reach.

“That’s very high up!” Jester protests. “What if she falls from there?”

“ _Bound for a good time_ ,” Kiri says in Molly’s voice, almost a purr, and Fjord coughs out an amused laugh as Beau grabs Kiri by her sides and begins to lift her up. As soon as her winged little arms wrap around a beam and she scrambles up to sit on a long, aged beam, she’s almost invisible in the warm flickering of the hearth.

Caleb is rubbing a hand down his face. “You know, I thought about so much putting this place together, but you can never plan for kids.”

Nott is scooting some chairs around, and Molly suddenly notices that several of them are almost like high chairs, sporting small raised seats with little ladders on either side. It looks proportional to a goblin or a Kenku. “It’s lovely, Caleb, it’s amazing.”

Yasha has seated herself at a bar stool like a well-mannered patron, leaning a little to peer at the bottles across from her. “Are these drinks real?”

“They are real while they are here,” Caleb answers, see-sawing his hand. “You can, um, you can drink them here, and enjoy them, but if you try to take it outside, it will not go with you. Same with the food. You can eat it, and you will leave full, but, Beau, any po- Beau, this is important - any pocket bacon that you take from here will disappear from your pocket when you leave.”

“Fuck!” Beau says earnestly, then, “Wait, but there _is_ bacon?”

After some quibbling, they agree to peek into the well-stocked kitchen just for a moment and then go up to see the rooms. The kitchen is extremely well-stocked, and Caleb has to name some of the game hens hanging up in the back because they’re so unfamiliar to the rest of the team, and Caleb apologizes again for not having made any ‘staff’.

“Are they automatons?” Jester guesses.

“No, and the whole thing is just weird, and… I will cook, if you all like…”

“No, we can all cook.” Jester looks around at the other faces. “Or, at least, everyone can cooks who feels like cooking, and I feel like cooking!”

“ _I feel like cooking!_ ” Kiri mimics from the ceiling in the next room.

Fjord grins. “Can we get her down and then look upstairs?”

“I’ll get her,” Beau says, mouth popping off the neck of a bottle she must have swiped when nobody was looking. “The booze works, by the way.”

“I _told_ you it-” Caleb rolls his eyes as Beau walks away. “Okay. Upstairs is, it is not finished, but every room has a bed and its own wash room,”

There is a moment of appreciative noises from a team who is used to one shared wash room per inn.

Caleb’s expression shifts, and he smiles warmly. “Ja, and, I have made some guesses here and there, so if something is really wrong, please tell me and the next time we come here, it can be fixed.”

Jester gasps as they begin up the stairs. “I want a _huuuuge_ bed,” she intones.

“You already have one,” Caleb replies calmly.

“I want a bigger bed than Jester's,” Mollymauk declares.

“I already regret offering changes. Okay, here, Fjord, this is, um, yours?” Caleb sounds unsure, almost as if he’s worried that Fjord will reject whatever is inside. As he opens the door, several people gasp at the enormity of the room inside. An unusually large bed fit for a governor dominates the right side of the room, and the sitting area to the left includes a comfortable pair of arm chairs, whetstones and other equipment management goodies on a small side table, and…

“Is that a _hammock_?” Beau asks.

Caleb shrugs lamely. “Sometimes, soldiers come home from war and want to sleep in a tent outside their houses, because it is what they are accustomed to. So, if Fjord does not prefer the bed, he has an option.” He flushes a little. “I don’t know…”

Fjord crosses into the room, reaching out and touching the hammock disbelievingly. “Is this why you were lookin’ at all those books about ships?”

Caleb looks at his boots. “I can remove it next time. It’s just rope.”

“It’s just like the one I slept in. The only things missin’ are the damn standing water on the floor, and…” He gestures another hammock immediately next to him on either side, slamming his hands down to indicate ‘too close’, and the group laughs. “Thank you, Caleb. This is mighty thoughtful.”

Caleb mumbles something and coughs. “The, the whetstone and other items, please use them here as much as you like, but unfortunately they are like the food, and they cannot leave here.”

Jester is giggling delightedly. “This is all so amazing!”

Molly elbows Caleb in silent agreement, and Caleb ducks his head again, this time to hide a small smile. Better. “Jester, your room is actually next, would you like- agh!” He splutters as Jester pushes past him, almost knocking into Yasha in her effort to get to the next room as fast as possible. Molly laughs as he hears the next door open, following after her, watching Kiri scurry past his legs to catch up just as Jester lets out a long, incredibly happy scream.

“What’d you _put_ in there?” Fjord asks wonderingly. Everyone crowds through the hallway and into the doorway of the next room, slowly filtering in to the much brighter room.

Whereas Fjord’s room, Molly realizes now, was like a comically expanded inn room with simple wooden walls, this room is covered in wallpaper and little decorative sconces like a fancy house would have. Tiny pink flowers are dotted over a warm sand background on every wall but one, which is a splash of bright mint. Jester is almost a blur, bouncing back between a bed big enough to be three beds shoved together and a large glass display dome on the table, under which is a pedestal plate of sweet cakes and biscuits.

“CALEB I LOVE YOU,” Jester is saying, shouting into Caleb’s ear and making his knees buckle as she holds on to him. “CALEB. I LOVE IT.”

“ _I LOVE IT_ ,” Kiri mimics from the center of the bed, where she has sunk into the pile of comforters and quilts and is only visible from her shoulders up.

Jester gasps suddenly, letting go of Caleb, who scrambles to his feet and takes the opportunity to slightly hide behind Yasha before he can get jumped again. “Does Kiri have a room?” Jester asks.

“Yes, it’s across from yours,” Caleb says, pointing. “But also, if you both prefer,” and he moves reluctantly from the entryway toward the bed, like someone who is intruding on another’s personal space. He kneels down, lifting the edge of a soft lavender bedsheet to reveal a small cot that rolls out. Its bedding and pillow are both the same forest green as Kiri’s cloak.

The room gets a little quiet as Kiri shuffles down from the bed, looking at the cot, then at Jester, then at Caleb. Caleb looks to Jester, who nods extremely fast, and so Kiri plops down on the tiny cot and squirms a little until she’s nestled in. The feathers around her neck poof out.

Somewhere behind Molly, Beau is cooing.

“This,” Fjord says, very quietly, “is the cutest fucking thing I think I’ve ever seen."

Kiri wiggles up to sitting position to reach to the bottom of the bed and pull the sheet and elaborately stitched quilt up to her beak. “ _Beautiful craftsmanship_ ,” she says in Molly’s voice.

Jester squats down. “Kiri, do you want to stay in my room tonight?”

Kiri looks like she’s ready to fall asleep. “ _Should we circle the carts around for the night?_ ” she asks in Fjord’s voice, and Molly’s face hurts a little from grinning.

“Yes, sweetie, you can sleep in here whenever you like! We can snuff the candles and I’ll come join you a little later, is that okay?”

“ _Yes!_ ” Kiri agrees in Jester’s own voice. She resumes squirming back and forth in an effort to sink even further into the little mattress, clicking happily as Jester pets her head goodnight and everyone begins to file out.

“I don’t know how we’re ever gonna give her back to to gnomes,” Fjord confesses quietly as they shut the door behind them.

“I know... but. It's good for her there. She gets to have brothers and sisters.” Jester looks to Nott, who nods agreement.

Caleb laughs and shakes his head. “For anyone who was curious, Kiri’s room has some Zemnian wood toys, and…” He pushes the door open to show a room with small and large plush chairs, a proportional four-poster bed, and several carved animals on wheels lined up neatly in the corner.

“I like the duck,” Yasha compliments.

“Ja? It was always my favorite growing up, I don’t really know why.” Caleb seems more relaxed now. He shuts the door and moves back to the main side of the hall, opening the door to a very spartan room with a much firmer-looking bed. The sheets, sofa, and rug are all shades of blue, black, and brown.

“My colors,” Beau is sing-songing, and dances into the room to look at the towering bookshelf that is nearly full, but with one shelf dedicated to different liquor bottles. “Are the books real? I mean, they stay here, blah blah, but can I read them?”

Caleb scratches the back of his head. “Ja. I want to put a reading room downstairs also, but it’s not… I’ve only got this part done.”

“Did you write the books? How does that work?”

“I’ve only put in books I’ve memorized. I don’t know if I could will a different one into being.” He shrugs.

“Magic is weird,” Jester whispers loudly to Fjord.

“It’s so incredible,” Nott is saying earnestly, reaching up and taking Caleb’s hand in both of hers. “I am so, so proud of you.”

Caleb beams down at her. “I have had a lot of support.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Well, if you ever get tired of being an excellent wizard, I think I see a nice retirement in interior design.” Molly smiles warmly with sharp teeth.

“Is this-” Yasha is examining the next door, head cocked. “Is something burning in there?”

“Yes, but on purpose,” Caleb says. “Yours has a hearth in it, go look. I only had some woodblock prints of your region to go on, but, um, I assume the pervasiveness of fireplaces is probably something to do with… you know, being even colder than where I come from?”

Yasha gives him a look that even Molly can’t quite decipher before opening the door. A blast of warm air leaks out, at the edges of which are the smell of wood smoke and the hint of a frosty chill. The fire in there is definitely warming what would otherwise be a very frigid room.

“You can make them different temperatures?” Jester whispers.

“I… hoped so?” Caleb rubs the back of his neck. “I thought, ‘if it does not work, and is not cold, then I will just put out the fire, then it will be no problem.’“

Molly is the first person to invite himself into this new space, admiring the aged wood cabin interior. There are two wooden chairs with intricately carved beasts in the arms, both facing a pedestal table whose base resembles a dragon breathing fire upwards. The bed across from the hearth is piled with sleeping furs and has a chest at the foot. The bed is… about half again as large as a standard one.

“My feet won’t hang over,” Yasha says very quietly.

Molly shares a look with her: _he’s precious and we must protect him._

“If, um, if the temperatures are not right, or you did not actually want a cold room with a hearth… scheisse, I forgot to mention this earlier. Across the hall, after Kiri’s room, the two doors with the brass door handles are plain guest rooms. They are just like the room at the Pillow Trove. So, please, if you do not-”

“I am sleeping here,” Yasha says.

“I love mine and I never want to sleep anywhere else,” Jester adds.

“I’m pretty fond of mine too,” Fjord says with a grin. There’s a pause, and finally, Fjord elbows Beau, who tilts a little and looks at him.

“Oh! Shit.” She clears her throat. “My room’s good too.”

Molly watches as Fjord shoots her a _why didn’t you say it with us?_ look and Beau returns it with an expression of _I didn’t realize it was an everybody thing!_ Well. Baby steps for the monk.

Caleb, for his part, is nodding along as Yasha holds up a pelt from the bed and asking something about it. She seems satisfied with his answers, looking down at the woven rug on the floor and exhibiting a small but very genuine smile at the edges of her lips.

“Can we see the next one?” Jester prompts, and Caleb nods and gestures to Molly as he steps away from the doorway and moves on to the next one.

Caleb’s anxiety about how his decisions will be received has been waxing and waning throughout this process, Molly noted, and right now it’s back up toward the top. Molly smiles patiently as Caleb waits for everyone to file out of Yasha’s room, getting their last peeks, gathering in the hallway yet again.

The door opens and it is _vivid_. Tapestries are suspended from the walls, the rich colors flickering in the candlelight - the one directly across from him is a peacock, the next one a snake, the next one a garden.

Molly tears his eyes away and looks at the furniture. He has a bed, but it’s _quite_ a ways inside, preceded by a fully furnished sitting area with plush couches, arm chairs, foot stools, and a delicate china tea set on the table in the center. The rug underneath is thick and luxurious, a beautiful clash of sumptuous reds and purples intermixing with shots of gold and green appearing here and there. Behind Molly, he can hear several deeply appreciative sounds, and he’s aware he’s been staring for a moment.

“There’s a bed back there?” he jokes, and the group behind him breaks into soft laughter.

“This is _perfect_ Molly,” Jester is saying, and Molly finally steps in, skirting around the sitting area and examining the rich mahogany bed with an elaborate headboard. Silk and satin sheets are laid out with an artful sort of haphazardness, as if rumpled to aesthetic perfection.

He takes a deep breath. “I am home,” Molly declares with a dramatic turn and flourish, and there’s more laughter and some light applause. “Caleb, you’ve outdone yourself. It’s the height of comfort.”

Fjord gestures around. “See, and if I’d gotten this, I think I’d’ve been scared to touch anything.”

“Do I smell incense?” Beau asks.

Caleb gestures over to a small table in the corner. “I made it very mild,” he says, eyes flicking from one object to the next as if making sure they’re where they’re supposed to be.

“It’s nice,” Yasha compliments, a little wonderingly. Molly knows she doesn’t usually care for incense at all.

“I smelled it once at a small festival, and I’m afraid I never caught the name of it.” Caleb glances over to Molly to check if it’s alright.

“It’s just right,” Molly assures, surprising himself by how much he means it. “Caleb, really, thank you.”

“Keine Ursache,” Caleb says with a shrug, and turns on his heel before anyone can ask what that actually means in Common. “Nott, this is yours, the door inside locks on each side, so if you want to come to my room-”

“Wh- this is-!”

“I know you are tired from everything, please, go and rest.” Caleb is ushering Nott into her room just as Molly comes out of his, and everyone seems to be glancing at each other and deciding that if Caleb isn’t interested in showing Nott’s room off, it’s fine that it’s not their business. When Caleb finally closes that door and rolls his shoulders back, Fjord takes the hint and speaks up:

“Caleb, thank you again for everything. I think we’re all ready to head to our new rooms.”

“We could still cook downstairs,” Jester points out.

“I’m actually pretty tired,” Beau confesses, and Jester shrugs and then accedes that she’s exhausted with a long moan. “That fuckin’ forest out there is taking forever.”

“I will sleep very well,” Yasha says serenely. Stepping forward from the back of the group, she extends her hands and gives Caleb a very serious handshake. “Thank you.”

Caleb nods and mumbles back, and slowly the others give their waves (Beau, Fjord) and brief hugs (Jester) before heading back to their various rooms.

“I can’t believe Kiri has a little bed by my bed,” Jester whispers enthusiastically to Beau as they walk.

“It’s cute as fuck,” Beau agrees.

Molly smiles at the exchange, watching each of the team disappear in turn behind their various doors. The large hearth downstairs in the pub crackles in the silence, a log shifting and falling a couple inches.


	4. Chapter 4

Caleb gives it a few moments. “See, usually, it is me that misses the social cues.” He frowns a little deeper when Molly just looks at him with a grin. “Me, or maybe Beau. But I’m pretty sure Fjord just…”

“Politely got everyone to go to bed and let you get some rest,” Molly finishes. “But! I’ve got a bet with myself about what’s behind that last door.” When Caleb’s eyes flicker to Nott’s room, Molly shakes his head. “Not hers, yours. And I understand you wanting it to be just for her. All these rooms are your genius-level best guess of our inner selves. That’s a lot more intimate of a thing when you actually really know someone like you know her.” Molly jerks his chin toward the simple door at the end of the hall. “Yours, though, yours I’ve got some theories on.”

Caleb’s shoulders draw in just a fraction of an inch, and Molly just keeps smiling. “Theories,” Caleb repeats finally, crossing his arms across his chest.

Molly steps around him and leans against the wall in a comfortable slouch, as if waiting for Caleb to inevitably open the door for him. “I think all your books are in there,” he says in a low tone.

“The nerdy wizard keeps all his memorized books in his room. Mein Gott, Mollymauk, you didn’t even need your tarot cards for that?”

“Don’t be sassy, it’s too endearing on you.” Molly lets his eyes gleam a little. “I think you’ve got nothing but books. I mean that literally. There’s nothing else in that room but the bed.”

Caleb’s arms curl tighter. “And you guess this because?”

“Because you designed yours last. And because you don’t care. You spent all your time trying to work us crazy lot out and you never gave a _shit _about giving yourself one single nice thing.”__

__And Molly’s ready for the silence that brings, because he knows that it’s mean to say and that he’s almost definitely right. Caleb licks his teeth and takes in a deep breath. “You certainly seem to feel you have me worked out.”_ _

__“I’m perfectly willing to be proven wrong. Throw open that door and show me the most disgustingly opulent bachelor pad I’ve ever seen.” He lifts a hand and gestures around as if looking at it now. “Chandeliers! Marble sculptures of curvaceous women! _Frescos!_ God, at least one good fresco.”_ _

__“That would be too ostentatious even for you,” Caleb counters, clearly feeling he’s gained some ground, and that’s when Molly knows he’s won._ _

__“You’re right - you would have a cozy little Zemni cottage, right? You’d have so much detail, from the designs in the cutlery to knick knacks along the mantel-”_ _

__There is a dull thud as the bedroom door, flung open, hits the inside wall. Mollymauk goes quiet as Caleb just stands there, not looking, arm still outstretched from turning the knob. Molly forces himself to look past the man and into the interior._ _

__A table with a dish of candles. He can’t see much else. Slowly, he steps in, looking at the two interior doors and the bed pushed up against the wall. It isn’t big, or bedecked in quilts, or furs. It’s too plain to be from anywhere specific. There’s nothing else._ _

__Molly turns in place and looks at Caleb, who’s stepped in and quietly shut the door. “That one is the library,” he says, barely moving his hand to point to the interior door to his left. “That one is the water closet. Same as almost everyone’s.”_ _

__“–almost?”_ _

__Caleb seems to think a moment before deciding to answer. “You already know Nott doesn’t like water,” he says, and crosses the room to the wash room door, opening it and walking through. Molly gets a glimpse of a simple commode and wash basin, but Caleb’s voice is echoing strangely, and he’s disappeared much, much further in. “So, she has the first part, the second part is much simpler…”_ _

__Molly follows him in, past the simple cabinet with bowls of soaps and brushes and combs arranged on top, toward the sound of moving water. There’s a flimsy silk curtain that has to be pushed aside, but then Molly feels like he’s in a strange dream, because the floor has turned into the cool smooth tiles at the bath house, there is… a stone formation, mossy, with a gentle water fall flowing from out of the wall and into a small pond. The water then trickles away into the other wall, as if in a constant gentle flow, and…_ _

__“Magic,” Caleb explains shortly._ _

__“Yes, but.” Molly can’t look away, opening his mouth and closing it a few times. “Everything else made sense.”_ _

__“Ja, well,” Caleb rubs at his eyebrow. “You would not believe the amount of wizards, and, and other casters who make mansions that do not follow the basic laws of physics in their layout, you know, one room that leads to two rooms that should be overlapping each other, I, I honestly find the idea very disconcerting? I know my mind works a little differently to others, but even the average person makes maps in their head of where they are in relation to other things, so…”_ _

__“The water comes from nowhere and it goes to nowhere?”_ _

__“And it’s warm,” Caleb adds._ _

__“It’s–?”_ _

__“I’ve never been to a hot spring, but you know the poems, they are supposed to be the best thing ever, other than the sulphur smell, so why not…” He gestures. “So many of the team work and fight physically all day, and hot baths are either not available to us or very expensive, so this is,”_ _

__“You _do not_ have to justify the weird magic not-smelly hot spring to me.” Molly gives him a significant look. “Or to _anyone_.”_ _

__Caleb looks a little bashful. “I forgot to mention it when we - when I was showing everyone around, but, I figure if people do not like it they can just use the bucket to scoop water out and put it into the basin.”_ _

__“If this were the real world and things could get cobwebs, those basins would all get cobwebs.” Molly looks at the spring, then at Caleb, and makes a decision. “Okay. We’re fixing this.”_ _

__Caleb straightens a little and lifts his chin. “It is adding and subtracting proportional amounts of water, I made absolutely sure, what needs fixing?”_ _

__Mollymauk sits on the edge of the basin before noticing a modest stool next to pegs. Of course. He moves to that, hanging up his coat and sitting down, starting to unlace his boots. “One nice thing,” he says firmly._ _

__“What?”_ _

__“I have never been to a hot spring, and I’ve _certainly_ never been to a magically-optimized hot spring. And you need to treat yourself to one actual pleasant experience before you figure out a spell to open a chasm that reaches out from beneath you and swallows you whole.” Molly sets his boots neatly in the corner and begins unbuttoning his shirt._ _

__A beat. “This is stupid,” Caleb says._ _

__“Don’t you want to make sure it works?”_ _

__When Caleb doesn’t respond, Molly looks over and tilts his head just so, jewelry tingling quietly. On a whim, as a test, he pushes his shirt down off one shoulder and then tugs it the rest of the way off, pretending not to notice when Caleb turns away very suddenly._ _


	5. Chapter 5

“I’m not sure about the moss,” Caleb says flatly, and kneels down just within Molly’s field of vision. Molly suppresses a wide grin. “I tried to… well, it’s sort of made up.”

“More than everything else here,” Molly adds serenely. He folds his shirt and sets it aside, then his belt, getting to his feet and shimmying out of his trousers and small clothes before Caleb can change his mind. He looks for something to steady himself on and is only a little surprised when he sees that one of the rock outcroppings is perfect to steady oneself to get in - under the surface of the rippling water, there’s a natural bench, and he steps down onto that, stiffening a little at how surprisingly warm it is. “Ooh!”

“Scheisse. Is it too hot?”

“No, no, it’s like a hot bath, just needs adjusting to…” His tail, now free of clothing, swishes out and steadies him as he lowers himself down and finally sits. “ _Fuck._ ” The water reaches the middle of his biceps, enveloping him in pleasant warmth. For a moment, everything is still, the waterfall providing just enough white noise to nearly drown out the sound of shuffling clothes behind him. Molly stretches his legs out until his feet are propped against the opposite side of the little pond, tilting his head back onto the moss. It’s strangely pleasant, almost pillowy. “The moss is good,” he confirms.

“Good.” Caleb’s footsteps approach - Molly makes sure to tilt his head in the other direction politely - and a foot dips into the water, stops, and then lowers in the rest of the way. The water sloshes a bit against Molly’s left arm as Caleb lowers himself in and finally settles. Modesty achieved, Molly rolls his head back to Caleb, although he still doesn’t open his eyes.

“You’re the best wizard,” he informs him.

“You are just saying that because it is late and you are in a nice bath.”

“I’m in a nice bath in a nice mansion made by the best wizard.”

To Molly’s surprise, Caleb actually begins to chuckle, and Molly opens his eyes to see Caleb grinning and shaking his head. He’s seen this view in the bathhouse a few times now, always less comfortable and always a bit further away, and Molly allows himself a moment to admire how, even though Caleb’s hair is mussed and his jawline scruffy, he seems… a little happy. The circles under his eyes aren’t so bad. Maybe his collarbones don’t stick out quite so much, either. Molly and Jester have theorized before that Caleb’s put on a bit of much-needed weight since he joined up.

“You are a very odd man, Mollymauk.”

“Thank you.” He shifts on the stone bench so he’s facing toward Caleb a little, making sure not to nudge his knee and spook him. Caleb is looking forward and doesn’t seem to mind.

“You know, it was very strange work, but… I must confess I was very happy to have a chance to do something to give everyone a break. Even if it is just a strange little building with, with no training room yet, and all the other things I want to do with the main level…”

“The important things are done?”

“Ja.” Caleb smiles, glad that he understands. “The fancy cute things for Jester. Beds for Fjord and Yasha they can actually fit in. Personal space. Hearths. Stained glass. Little things.”

Molly thinks back. “Stained glass?”

Caleb bites his lip. “Remember that temple to Sarenrae last week? We bought some holy water there?”

“I was on the other trip, I was getting the caltrops with Beau.”

“Oh. Yes.” Caleb shrugs, making ripples. “Well, there was a beautiful stained glass window above the double doors. I kind of stole its image for that tapestry in your room of the garden, so, imagine every little flower petal is a discrete piece of glass, and it faces the sunrise so that the light comes in on the interior and…” He gestures, drifting off. “Well, no sun in here, but I shrunk down the stained glass window to about two feet high and put three of them together, around several candles, so it sends the colors out to the room. They are hinged so it is easy to open them up and blow out the candles if it is too bright.”

Molly realizes he’s staring. “How long have you been thinking about all of this?”

Caleb catches his glance, and the blush runs up his cheeks and then down his chest, disappearing under the water. “It is a complex spell,” he mumbles defensively. “While trying to get the conjuration details correct, there is a lot of time to…”

“To be extremely sweet and thoughtful to all the people dear to you.”

Caleb shoots him an embarrassed and annoyed look.

“And the rest of us,” Molly finishes brightly, sitting up and stretching his arms up over his head. “Well, I know all the Jester-style yelling makes you panic a little, so just to make sure you know, everyone feels very happy and cared about.”

“Good,” Caleb says, almost to himself. “Good.”

“So what are we going to do for you?”

“What?”

Molly smiles, settling his arms along the edge of the stone while making sure not to brush against the back of Caleb’s neck. “Friends like to do things for each other,” he says slowly. “It’s very much a back-and-forth thing.”

Caleb shakes his head and sinks a little further into the water. “I don’t need anything.”

“You need to dunk and rinse your hair,” Molly points out, smiling kindly when Caleb shoots him a glance. “We’ve been walking around in a forest. Not your fault you took some bark in here with you.”

And sometimes Caleb might have gotten defensive, but perhaps a mix of broken down walls and exhaustion has worn him down. “Ja, well,” he lowers inch by inch, scooting forward so he can disappear entirely. “The chain on your left horn has been tangled since we climbed down that rock face.”

And then he’s gone, a pale pink silhouette under the water. Molly moves his eyes forward, for propriety, and scowls as he reaches up to feel along the ridge of his left horn. He’s still fiddling when Caleb reemerges, scowling a little in discomfort and pushing his hair back and out of his face.

“Better?” Caleb asks.

“Yes, I can’t see any more bark, now can you _please_ -” Molly huffs as he tilts his head a little more, nail running along the chain and trying to find the spot where it’s flipped over.

“Here,” Caleb says, and without thinking Molly turns to Caleb and bows his head down in front of him, over his lap, holding still while Caleb lifts his arms out and begins to carefully untangle the little silver baubles. “Do you always keep all this on when you wash? Won’t they rust?”

“They’re not that kind of metal,” Molly says with a shrug, and clears his throat. “And, just because I know you’re going to think of this and have some sort of stuffy Zemnian panic attack, please know that my eyes are completely shut.”

Caleb’s hands freeze on Molly’s horns, and Molly is pretty sure he can feel the exact moment Caleb realizes that Molly’s bent over and directly facing his crotch. “Well,” Caleb says, and then doesn’t finish the sentence, or move, for several seconds. Finally, Molly feels movement on his horns again, feels the light tug of the chain dropping down to its normal hanging position, and then a couple _tings_ as little coins are flipped around to their correct orientations. “These things are like earrings, they do not want to face the right way.”

“I used to have fancier ones that draped better, but they were pretty flimsy. All you need is one chain link bending open for the whole look to be ruined.”

“I can’t imagine _fancier_ ,” Caleb mutters, and something about the good-natured annoyance behind the words makes Molly feel warm inside. “Okay, there.”

“Ah! My neck was starting to cramp.” Molly makes a show of rising all the way up and out of Caleb’s space before opening his eyes again. As a test, he tilts his head left and right, listening to the soft wind chime effect on each side. “Yep, perfect now. Thank you.” He looks back over and beams. Caleb smiles back and then looks down.

Molly thinks about it.


	6. Chapter 6

“One second,” Molly says, and shifts to his feet, climbing out of the little pond and back onto the cool tiles. “Ah! Fuck fuck fuck fuck.” He starts padding over to the little cabinet. “Okay, next time, maybe mats. I’ve seen them made out of bamboo sometimes?”

“Sure, yes, good idea.” Caleb is shifting in the water, maybe turning to try to see what Molly’s doing on the other side of the curtain. Molly’s not sure if Caleb’s curiosity would be enough to break the Unspoken Rule of not looking directly at people at bathhouses when their private areas aren’t submerged. “What are you–?”

Molly sniffs one soap bar that is _overwhelmingly_ vanilla and sugar scented, flinches a little, and then puts it back. “Trying to find a shampoo bar.”

“Oh. The soaps are round and the shampoos are rectangular.”

“But over time the rectangles will just round out at the corners and…”

“There is no ‘over time’, they reset when I cast the spell again.”

Molly considers this, then leans to the left and tugs the curtain aside so he’s exposed from the ribs up. “Caleb, turn around and look at me. Look at my face. Magic is _fucking insane_.”

Caleb laughs and shakes his head, a warm and pleasant sound as Molly lets the curtain fall back into place so he can begin to smell the little rectangles. “You do strange blood things,” Caleb calls. Molly grunts in agreement.

“I’m sort of professionally weird, though, I get a pass.”

“Hmm. I think I need to file whatever paperwork you did to become official.”

“Was that a real, genuine joke?” Molly sniffs a reddish bar and finds it smells mildly of cinnamon. Perfect. He sets down the green one (sage) and shoulders through the curtain again, kneeling down behind Caleb’s seated form and enjoying the view. From this position, he can just see the apples of Caleb’s cheeks risen in his smile.

“That secret is safe with you, I think.”

“Hm,” Molly says quietly. He isn’t surprised when Caleb jumps at how close Molly’s become now. “Well, I found what I wanted, now I can get to work. You don’t have any bruises on your scalp, right?”

Caleb sits up straighter, slowly becoming completely rigid, still staring forward per the unspoken rule. “I don’t understand.”

“When we fought the dire wolf this morning, it threw you against that tree stump and you hit your head. Jester healed you, but I wanted to make sure there wasn’t a residual bump.” He reaches past Caleb and submerges the little bar in the water, pulling it back out and beginning to work it into a lather.

“I meant–” Caleb struggles for the words, no longer smiling, but also not moving away. “You don’t have to…”

“Of course I don’t. But it feels nice, and I’d like to.” Molly’s voice is calm as anything, not too forward, not suggestive, giving Caleb an out he’s pretty sure the other man won’t take.

Caleb’s not an impossible man to read. It’s not always clear what exactly is holding him back from reaching for what he wants, mind. But what he wants is… decipherable, for someone looking for it.

“Do I have to do anything?” Caleb says quietly. It sounds like he almost didn’t get the words out.

“Nope.” Molly shifts his knees against the soft moss bordering the pond and smiles to himself, gathering the lather in his palms and then using gentle fingers to untangle some strands of hair from each other before he begins. Over the sound of the water, he just barely hears Caleb’s sudden intake of breath.

Molly feels himself twitch, and ignores it.

“You’re not messy as we like to joke sometimes, but it’s still nice to be taken care of once in a while.” Molly hums as he gathers up the long red hair, piling it against Caleb’s scalp and starting to work the shampoo in. After a couple seconds he sees Caleb’s shoulder blades push back, then rise, as Caleb shifts and presumably starts breathing again. Poor man. Molly really is trying to go easy on him. Molly strokes along the curves and indentations of Caleb's skull, applying gentle pressure, admiring the color of the hair and the scattered freckles along the neck and shoulders. How to help him relax? Maybe back to technical talk. “Speaking of which, tell me about these people you can make?”

“H-huh?”

“The creepy ones, in the mansion.”

“Oh.” Caleb scoffs a little and shakes his head, gently enough not to push Molly’s fingers away. “The spell can include these… almost transparent servants. I have researched them extensively and, honestly, I am not sure if I want to include them at all.”

“Someone to wash our clothes for us while we sleep?” Molly singsongs hopefully. When he nudges Caleb’s head to one side, Caleb moves easily, no longer overthinking.

“That would be very nice, but, the texts say they are ‘completely obedient’, and I cannot get enough information on how these things are made. It is a very real risk that they are sentient, and… they are described often as ghosts…? So does that not mean they have souls?”

Molly draws back a little and makes a face that Caleb can’t see. “Oh, so…”

“Ja, am I summoning a dead person to come do my chores? And their summoning pact prevents them from telling me to fuck off? The more advanced spells can so often…” Caleb trails off and sighs as Molly’s fingers press along the curve of bone behind his ear. From this angle, Molly can see his eyes have fluttered shut. “So often, they can do very powerful things that maybe you. Shouldn’t do.”

“Okay, I completely understand why you want to figure that out before adding any. I can make my own bed for now, I suppose.” He looks at the pads of his fingertips. “One second, need more.” Taking his hands away from Caleb’s scalp, he watches the almost imperceptible drift as Caleb follows after his touch before stopping himself. Molly resumes his little hum, picking the little bar back up, dunking it again, working up a fresh lather. Caleb’s hair is definitely clean by now, laid flat and untangled, but the massage seems to be going over even better than Molly had hoped. “Okay,” he says, a gentle word before touching Caleb again and this time digging his thumbs into the knot of muscles at the base of his skull. “Forward?”

Caleb bends his head down so obediently, Molly has to close his eyes for a second. When he regains composure and begins kneading down the other man’s neck, Caleb lets out a soft breath of air and Molly fights the urge to ask how it feels. He tries to think of something to keep the conversation going, but Caleb’s tiny reactions are distracting.

“What was the tiny door?”

“Mmm?” Caleb mumbles, shifting under the water and then sliding toward Molly, back pressed flush against the warm stone wall and just an inch or two closer. “The - where did you see a little door?”

“You set it down and used it as a… spell component, I guess.” Molly can feel some of the tension getting worked out of Caleb’s neck, and battles internally for a moment before deciding to slide his hands down to the freckled shoulders and begin to knead there. Caleb stiffens for a fraction of a second before relaxing again, and once Molly curls his fingers in a bit deeper, Caleb’s head falls forward again.

“It’s… just ivory. I’ve had it for a while but not been able to use it, so it has been… stuffed in the bottom of my ba…” Caleb stops and freezes, and Molly’s hands go still with one thumb pressing tightly into his right shoulder blade.

“Hurts?” Molly asks, suddenly more worried than he expected to be.

“It’s very…” Caleb swallows. “It’s a bad spot, apparently. I did not realize until just now.”

“Well, I’ll be careful with it.” Molly takes the opportunity and steels himself. “And I’m also going to pop back in there, because kneeling out here while being sopping wet was a terrible idea on my part.”

Caleb barks out a small laugh. “We should have a hearth in here as well?” he jokes. Molly lets go of him and slips delicately back into the pond beside him. There’s a moment when Molly wonders if Caleb won’t turn away from him to continue the massage, if he will simply look toward him or stay seated as he is, and to his delight this realization of opportunity must strike Caleb, too, because he must now make a choice to stop this or continue it.

Caleb’s cheeks flush and disappear from view as he turns away. Molly licks his lips and feels deeply, heartwarmingly smug.

“A hearth isn’t an awful idea,” Molly says thoughtfully, and turns on the stone bench almost enough to nudge his knee against Caleb’s outer thigh. From this angle, he can see more of Caleb’s back, pale and lightly freckled. The ladder of his spine is just a little too prominent, the shoulder blades jutting out a bit too far in spite of Caleb’s mostly relaxed position. Carefully, he lays his hands on Caleb’s shoulders again, stroking there lightly before returning to the problem spot and pressing his fingers around the edges of it experimentally.

Caleb breathes in sharply through his nose.

“Hurts a little?” Molly asks softly, and Caleb nods. Molly sweeps the side of his thumb further out, pressing and checking for a reaction. Nothing. Okay, so a small spot. “I’ll take care of you,” Molly promises absently, and he’s in the middle of working the nearby areas as loose as he can get them when he notices that a new, dark flush has expanded down the nape of Caleb’s neck, visible in between wet sections of hair. “You like that idea?” He asks, not realizing he may have taken this too far until it’s already out of his mouth. “Being taken care of?”

There’s a terrifying beat of silence, the muscles under Molly’s hands tensing further and further. “Please, Mollymauk.” Caleb’s voice is almost inaudible. “I realize you like to tease people, but I do not think it is fair to take it quite this far.”

Something in Molly’s gut twists at the pain in those words. “Actually,” he says, arranging just the right words and feeling some of the warmth come back to his bones, “I think you’ll find that this situation is better classified as an ‘invitation’.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is three parts from Tumblr's reblogs, gathered into one for easier reading.

Under Molly’s fingertips, and in spite of the warm water, he can feel a faint tremble.

“Maybe,” Caleb says, just barely turning his head before seeming to lose his nerve, “maybe, with people from differing cultures, it is best to be blunt to make sure a mistake is not made.”

It’s much harder than Molly guessed to take his hands off of Caleb, reaching for the small bucket near the moss. With his other hand, he tilts Caleb’s chin up, pouring water from the crown of his head to rinse out the last of the suds. This done, Molly breathes deeply, setting the bucket aside, folding his hands in his lap and leaning a little to the right so that he might be in the other man’s eye line. “Caleb,” he says, very gently and making sure to enunciate, “I have gotten us naked and into this magic pond with an ulterior motive. If you are interested, I would like to kiss you.”

“…fuck,” Caleb mutters under his breath, and turns on the bench to reach out and grab Molly by the back of his neck. Molly moves willingly, smiling against Caleb’s mouth and enjoying the subtle notes of desperation under the lust. Caleb’s kiss feels hot and soft and just a little chapped, wet from the bucket, and something about all of it together makes Molly’s cock twitch. When Caleb’s hand slides into his hair and tightens a little, Molly moans appreciatively and opens his mouth to lick and nip at Caleb’s lower lip.

Caleb shudders again and shifts on the stone bench, clearly trying to find a way to get closer. Molly reaches out blindly to push Caleb’s nearest shoulder back against the wall, holding him in place, as he gets up and throws his own leg over Caleb’s lap to straddle him. “This okay?” he breathes, pulling away to nuzzle at the scruffy jawline.

“This is. Very very good,” Caleb pants. Molly feels his cock harden further at the feeling of the new body underneath his, where their thighs touch and where Caleb is now spreading his fingers out to stroke through Molly’s hair, petting for a few seconds before getting a new grip on it. “Is this..?”

“That sort of thing is very  _very_ good to me,” Molly chirps. He spreads his knees  a little further apart, lowering further and resting a bit of his weight in Caleb’s lap. Caleb’s eyes are locked on his face, moving from his eyes to his mouth in rapid succession, and the feeling of power over this very powerful man is… definitely a sensation Molly could get used to.

The fondness is something he can work out and compartmentalize later.

For now, he can keep his body tantalizingly close to Caleb’s, erections not quite touching, and when Molly leans back and looks over Caleb’s bare chest and lower he makes sure to make a show of it. Caleb shifts a little under the weight of the scrutiny, free hand raising up to begin to trace peacock feathers fanning across Molly’s shoulder. The pad of his finger traces the ink designs, the ridges of the scars they cover, and Caleb gives him a quick look to make sure he’s allowed to do this. Molly smiles back warmly, devilishly, and his eyes flutter shut when Caleb surprises him by leaning forward and pressing hot kisses along the design.

“I guess you’re a fan of the art,” Molly breathes, tail wrapping around Caleb’s shin for leverage as he sets his hands on the other man’s shoulders.

“I have been thinking about them,” Caleb confesses, making his way to Molly’s pectoral and dragging his teeth along it. Molly shivers and feels himself twitch. “I probably shouldn’t have said that, fuck, just. Pretend I didn’t.”

Molly feels himself smiling as he feels Caleb’s beard scratching pleasantly against his ribs, his side, reverent kisses at everything he can reach above the water line. “It’s okay to want things,” Molly says, breath hitching a little when Caleb’s hands begin to roam too. Maybe it’s the water, but this feels different than the sex Molly has had over the last handful of years. Something is thrumming in his spine, making Caleb feel bright and warm and  _important_. “Can I show you?”

“O-of course.” Caleb is trembling a little as he pulls back, readying himself for whatever Molly is about to do, and the vulnerability in his eyes is too much. Molly crouches a little lower and noses at Caleb’s jawline, breathing in deeply and not hiding the low growl at the pleasure of the other man’s scent. When Caleb’s head tilts back, shyly offering more of him, Molly closes the gap and digs his teeth into Caleb’s flesh, just enough to grip him, and when Caleb thrashes under him and then stills with a moan Molly’s tail unravels and lashes in the water. Molly makes sure not to break skin, teasing and nibbling a line down his throat to the join of his shoulder, and when Caleb’s hands grip his hips, thumbs at his hipbones and fingers gripping his ass, Molly lets go and licks a long stripe.

“Scheisse.”

“S’at good?”

“Yes.” Caleb sounds like he’s having a hard time breathing. “All of this. Good.”

“You like it better when it’s dirty,” Molly observes, letting his incisors drag across Caleb’s neck after he says it. Caleb shivers in the warm water.

“You,” Caleb says, and then can’t seem to finish the thought. Molly doesn’t push it, taking his chin and gently angling him up for a kiss. Caleb’s tongue swipes out almost immediately this time, clumsy but with  _feeling_ , and when Molly captures it and sucks gently on it Caleb bucks his hips and yanks Molly’s down to meet him. Molly groans at the first feeling of Caleb’s erection, grinding lazily against it as he ends the kiss and moves on to start tonguing Caleb’s ear. He can feel Caleb’s nails digging little crescent moons right by the dimples above his ass, and he finds himself hoping that it leaves marks.

“Molly, I.”

“Yes?”

Caleb is struggling to form his words, which Molly takes to mean that he likes it when Molly traces the shell of his ear with his tongue. Molly’s deciding that he’s rather fond of the human shape of it, the gentle curve at the top, and when he nibbles it and finally aligns their erections properly, giving Caleb more friction, Caleb  _wails_  softly and his head falls back, ear now out of Molly’s reach.

“You’re very sensitive.”

“S-sorry.”

“No, no, I really like it.” Molly gets an idea, and he  _loves_  the idea, so he’s smiling warmly as he draws his hands up to cup Caleb’s face, letting the man rest his head on the moss as Molly rises a little further out of the water to bend down and kiss him. The friction is gone entirely but Caleb submits to it, slouches back and lets himself be towered over. Molly hums and presses gentle kisses to his cheek, the corner of his mouth, his lips.

The romance of the moment is meant to calm Caleb down a little, and to be a counterpoint to what’s coming up next, but Molly finds himself indulging in it and drawing it out, gently touching his lips to Caleb’s over and over, shifting his hands just enough out of the way to kiss down his jaw, chuckling as Caleb gathers some initiative and presses a firm kiss to Molly’s cheek.

“You like this too?” Molly asks unnecessarily, a few minutes in. Caleb smiles shyly and rubs little circles into Molly’s hips with his thumbs, which Molly takes for a yes. “What about this?”

Caleb blinks several times, and then gasps for more air as his eyes widen. Slowly, very slowly, Molly coils more of his tail around Caleb’s cock, just barely brushing against it. Molly continues to smile innocently and cup Caleb’s face.

“It seems like you like both,” Molly observes, voice lowering an octave. He kisses Caleb’s nose. “The very sweet?” When Molly squeezes his tail gently, finally taking Caleb in a firm grip, the other man’s expression is incomparable. Eyes shut, mouth slack, the deep red flush rising in his cheeks and running down his sternum as he gasps again. “And the dirty?”

“Mollymauk,” Caleb breathes, head tilting back further as his body strains to hold still. There is a very tempting line to the man’s throat right now, and Molly would very much like to bite it, but he likes this game of innocent and sinful. He strokes his thumbs along Caleb’s cheeks, soothing, pressing gentle chaste kisses to his forehead as he begins to stroke him off. “Oh,  _Molly_ , I.”

“You’re very cute when you’re like this,” Molly confides. It rattles Caleb enough to open his eyes and look up at Molly’s face. He looks like he can’t believe that but doesn’t see a single reason to argue right now. Molly nuzzles Caleb’s cheekbone affectionately, shifting the coils until he’s got the first six or so inches of his tail free, and that should be enough. He’s doing this blind, but this is too fun an idea not to try.

Caleb’s breathing quickens and his hands start to roam a little, clearly unsure, skimming Molly’s abdomen and his sides, his chest again, the column of his neck. Molly hums appreciatively, feeling like Caleb’s not sure what to do and needs a little encouragement. When the topmost coil of Molly’s tail shifts and starts to tease at the head of Caleb’s cock, the hesitance is lost and Caleb gasps and pulls at Molly in a knee-jerk reaction to get him close again. Molly stays firm, hovering over him, the tip of his own cock just barely grazing Caleb’s stomach.

“Ah ah,” Molly murmurs. “I need you still for this. You’ll see why.”

“See… wh… I don’t know how much more you can have planned,” Caleb pants. “I am very close to, to-”

Molly curls the tip of his tail between Caleb’s inner thighs, stroking past his balls and perineum and to the sensitive ring of muscle.

“ _F-fuck,_ ” Caleb hisses.

“Close, yes,” Molly teases. He kisses Caleb’s hot cheek as his tail squeezes Caleb, teases his opening, never breaching but constantly touching, stroking, as Caleb shakily pushes his legs wider and seems to be ready to be debauched entirely with no preparation. Molly noses along Caleb’s jaw -  _I would never do that, darling_  - and starts to give his erection rhythmic pressure.

“P-please,” Caleb begs into the hollow between Molly’s collarbones. “Please, please,”

“I’m pleasing, I’m pleasing.” Molly chuckles and kisses the top of his head, stroking his hair as he speeds up his rhythm and finds the speed that makes Caleb thrash a little underneath him. “Come on, darling, fall apart.”

“Molly, Molly,  _ahh_ ,” Caleb’s body starts to tense and his hands shakily rise up to Molly’s shoulders, gripping for dear life. Molly wraps his free arm around Caleb’s shoulders, holding him tightly he concentrates on teasing little flicks of the end of his tail, on the quick up-down up-down of Caleb’s twitching cock - “ _ah!_ ” 

And Caleb arches up and almost dislodges the man straddling him. Molly can feel the warm, sticky fluid on his tail, coming in thick spurts for much longer than he expected. It mixes with the water and is washed away as Molly strokes Caleb’s hair and soothes him with little nuzzles to the crown of his head. By the time Caleb finally relaxes, the water is clean again, and Molly is murmuring into his hair.

Molly finds that while that was incredibly hot, he doesn’t want to rush to any next step. He presses his lips to Caleb’s hair line, slowly unwinds and pulls his tail back, doesn’t let go of him. Keeps murmuring.

Caleb’s grip is less bruising now, finally releasing Molly’s shoulders, but almost shyly they shift back down to Molly’s hips again. “What are you saying?” he asks quietly. Molly had switched to infernal to hide some of his sudden onset of sappiness, and hadn’t expected questions.

“I’m telling you to fuck off, of course.” Molly smiles when he feels Caleb laugh underneath him, and lowers down into the other man’s lap, checking his face and pleased to find he looks relaxed and happy.

“Of course,” Caleb agrees, still a little out of breath.

Molly is stroking Caleb’s hair, enjoying the sound of his breaths calming when Caleb starts to shift underneath him. Molly backs up a little, wondering if he wants space, but Caleb’s hand is…

“You haven’t, um,” Caleb’s looking down into the water, hand not quite touching Molly’s erection. “You… haven’t. Yet.”

“I was letting you enjoy your moment,” Molly says, tail swishing contentedly behind him in the water. “You don’t have to do anything reciprocal. I can take care of it myself if you’d rather not.” He tries to meet Caleb’s eyes for a gentle smile to make sure he knows there’s no pressure. When Caleb finally looks up to Molly’s face it’s for tacit permission to touch him, fingertips light and hesitant in the water. Molly feels himself twitch in arousal at the contact.

“There’s.” Caleb’s brows come together. “Bumps?”

“Ridges along the top and bottom,” Molly explains, biting back a sound when Caleb’s thumb sweeps along the underside of his cock. The grip is so gentle and probably not  _meant_  to tease… did he just  _press his lips_ together? “Some tieflings have them, some don’t, it’s just, um,” he takes in a shaky breath as Caleb’s other hand cups his sac. “It’s just… a little difference… still works the same…”

“Seems like,” Caleb observes, displaying the first amount of confidence Molly’s really seen in this entire encounter. When Molly shuffles closer and rests his weight in Caleb’s lap, Caleb lets go of his balls and reaches around to hold him steady by the small of his back. “Please, um, tell me if I do something that you do not like.”

“Mm-hmm,” Molly answers eloquently. He’s used to humans being interested in the texture of his cock, the feeling of stroking it (or sucking it, or getting fucked by it, god, fucking Caleb would probably feel  _so good_ , he’d probably squirm and whine and beg for-) “I’ve really been enjoying myself too, so, not sure how long I can…”

“Oh.” Caleb seems to give this some serious thought, hesitating before finally starting a rhythm. Molly groans and tips his head forward, careful not to let his horn tip catch on Caleb’s cheek as his forehead meets the human’s shoulder.

“Fffuck, mm, Caleb. Yes.” Molly gets just enough leverage on his knees to buck into Caleb’s hand, feeling his orgasm start to build up. He presses a messy kiss to Caleb’s neck, then another, unable to stop. “Yeah, like that…”

“Let’s stop,” Caleb says suddenly.

Cold terror washes through Molly. “What? Okay. Yes. What?”

Caleb’s still holding his cock, but his head is craning around, looking behind them at the moss and the tiles. “I should have done this better,” he is saying, and Molly’s head is still spinning trying to figure out what happened. Should he move away? Is just staying still alright? Caleb doesn’t sound upset, but he’s got a flat affect a lot of the time and-

“Molly, what is wrong? You look…”

“You said stop,” Molly says quickly. “We can stop, but please tell me what I did, I don’t know-”

“No!” Caleb fumbles and lets go of him, then seems to change his mind and grip him again, squeezing firmly. Molly whimpers in arousal and confusion, pulling back a little. “I meant, I did not mean stop everything, I meant, I wanted to.” Caleb looks over his shoulder for the millionth time. “I am so sorry. I meant. I would like to stop touching you and, if you laid on your back, or sat, then, I could, my mouth,” Caleb lets go of him and scrubs at his own face. “You look really freaked out. I fucked up. I am so sorry.”

“No, nono, don’t.” Molly tugs Caleb’s hands away so he can push his forehead against Caleb’s. “It’s okay, everything’s fine, I’ve just really not wanted to, you know, accidentally push you into something, I really promise everything’s okay.” He feels his tail curling around Caleb’s calf, gentle reassuring pressure. “And I promise I’m not just saying that because you mentioned maybe wanting to suck me off.”

Caleb’s head is tucked into his chest, only coming back up after a few breaths. “Not ‘maybe’,” he admits, under his breath. Molly bites back a growl and presses his lips to Caleb’s cheek instead, letting his leg go.

“However you want me,” Molly breathes.

“Um. Sit.” Caleb’s shoulders rise a little, seemingly aware that the encounter has slowed down a little and not sure what to do about it. Molly makes sure to keep touching him, fingers swiping across his shoulder as he climbs off the other man and sits at the edge of the water and leaning back on his hands. “And your legs a little more open, please.”

Molly spreads accommodatingly. “If you feel my tail moving, that’s because I can’t keep track of it when something feels really good.”

Caleb nods nervously, looking at his tail and flushing anew. It’s that moment when Molly is completely, absolutely, one hundred percent sure that Caleb has never done this before.

“And if you don’t like it, it’s fine because I can just-”

“Am I that obvious?”

Molly looks down, past the slight paunch this position gives him, his extremely erect penis, and the flushed man who’s looking slightly embarrassed. “…no?”

Caleb rolls his eyes, grinning a little despite himself. “I should have known you wouldn’t really mind,” he mutters under his breath.

“Mind what?” Molly presses.

Caleb gives him a flat look.

“Lots of people haven’t sucked a Tiefling off before. Prejudice, you know? It does- oh. Okay.” Molly’s eyes flutter shut at the first sensation of warm pressure - Caleb’s mouth is so much  _hotter_  than he expected, and his lips are firm around the head of his cock, testing it out, tongue pressing experimentally against his slit. “Okay, okay, okay.”

Caleb makes an acknowledging sort of hum, and the water shifts and ripples and Molly feels a hand wrap around the base of his cock, stroking firmly. Molly peeks and Caleb’s faint red-blond eyelashes are fanned out on his cheeks, mouth wide as he dips his mouth a little lower, trying to see how far he can comfortably move down.

Molly’s had blowjobs by qualified experts, and this isn’t that, but something about Caleb’s deliberate process - and, he isn’t yet ready to admit, the fact that it’s Caleb - is making him bite his lip and fight the urge to grab the other man’s hair. He falls back instead, half on moss and half on cooled tile, and makes an embarrassingly loud sound when Caleb releases his cock, works up some spit, and starts to lick him from bottom to top.

“If I am doing something really stupid, you would tell me,” Caleb says, pulling off him. Molly can feel the occasional brush of Caleb’s forearms on his thighs and it feels unnaturally warm, like they’re melting together.

“More mouth,” Molly requests, and ignores Caleb’s surprised little laugh. The hand at the base of his cock slides up, thumb playing over his slit and pushing back his foreskin just a tiny bit - “Yes, yes, gently but yes  _please” -_  and Caleb’s lips are warm and soft and  _oh_  so gentle on him, firming a little as he bobs his head down, past the head and only a few more inches, popping off on the upstroke and beginning to lave his tongue there instead. Molly squirms. “Ah,” he says, and then “ _ahhhh_ ,” because Caleb’s other hand is cupping his sac again and he’s not even squeezing, not even a little, but it’s just enough to send an insistent  _zing_  up his spine and he can feel his tail kicking up water between them as Caleb shifts and hunches further over Molly’s body.

“Mm?” Caleb hums inquiringly, pulling the foreskin down as far as it will comfortably go and holding his balls a little more firmly. Molly feels them tighten.

“ _YES,_ ” Molly says too loudly, carding his hands through his own hair to keep from touching, feeling the spade of his tail smack hard against Caleb’s leg. “Yes, all that, all, ffff, a little gentler that,”

“Mmm,” Caleb says apologetically, and switches from rough licks to seeing how much he can swallow down. When Molly feels himself brush against the roof of Caleb’s mouth, he knows he’s fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much love to everyone sending me feedback, here or on Tumblr. <3 You're feeding the fic machine!


	8. Chapter 8

Molly is still coming down from the high when he feels Caleb get up and start to move around.

“Hey,” Molly says, because the idea of Caleb getting far away doesn’t seem palatable right now. He can’t quite bring himself to move an arm to  _reach_ for him, but one can only expect so much.

“Just rinsing my mouth out,” Caleb explains on the other side of the little wall. “And, um, getting you a cloth. I didn’t swallow it all.”

 _But you did swallow some_ , Molly thinks giddily, staring up at the immaculately tiled ceiling. The last fifteen seconds are a blur but he’s pretty sure he bucked hard enough that Caleb had to push him back down, and he might have… said some things. He hasn’t come that hard in a while.  _Definitely_  since before he left the circus.

Overthinking all these things would not be helpful right now.

Caleb comes back and kneels down by the pond, dipping a very fluffy white cloth in the pool before using it to scrub gently at Molly’s inner thighs and hip. It feels extremely nice. Pampering, even. Molly’s tail swishes lazily in the water, catching Caleb’s attention.

“You weren’t kidding about that thing,” Caleb says, jerking his chin over to it. “I thought I was going to have a triangle-shaped red mark on my shoulder.”

Molly grimaces. “Sorry.” It’s only happened a few times, and he debates telling Caleb this so he can know that the sex was not just acceptable, but actually very enjoyable. Something Molly wants to do again. Soon. Shit. He doesn’t just want sex again, he… “I should tell you, your dick is going to get ridges now.”

Caleb shoots him a look and leaves the cloth on his lap. “Ah-hm.”

“Sorry. It’s not, you know,  _technically_  a disease, but it does transfer, in situations of-” He stops as Caleb’s hand reaches just past his line of vision, and he feels a chain flick and catch on his horn. “Hey!”

“Hey what?” Caleb gets up, taking another sip of water from a china cup and swirling it around his mouth.

“You fixed it earlier.” Molly sits up, pouting a little and reaching up to fiddle in vain. He might be able to do it himself, with a mirror. “Are there hand mirrors?”

A beat. “What?”

“Hand mirrors,” Molly repeats, getting to his feet and rather glad for the conversation that’s helping them breeze through the we-just-had-sex phase. “Or maybe there  _is_  one on a wall in here and I didn’t no-”

“I am a  _fucking idiot_ ,” Caleb declares suddenly on the other side of the wall.

Molly sticks his head through the thin curtain and stares at him. “What? What’s wrong?”

Caleb is standing naked and staring at the corner of the wall. “Normal people use  _mirrors_. They use them every day. They have them in their bedrooms. Hallways, sometimes! If they have a wash room, they have a mirror in their wash room, it-” Caleb gestures emphatically in front of himself, then at his own head.

“We’ll live,” Molly points out.

“Ja, but I’m so-” Caleb gestures further, then stops himself. He’s sopping wet and there are little droplets of water sliding over freckled skin, which Molly appreciates on a purely aesthetic, new-thing-to-experience level. Caleb takes a long breath before reaching into the little cupboard and pulling out an extremely large, fluffy white towel. He wraps it around himself and leaves the door open for Molly to get one. “Sometimes I just realize how big of a weirdo I am, and, it is slightly overwhelming.”

Molly shrugs and kneels down to grab a towel. It’s almost as wide as it is long. Amazing. “I have a ridged cock,” he points out.

Caleb laughs as he dries himself off. “Ja, but that is … that is very nice, actually.”

Molly shimmies smugly in his towel. "You’ll like yours. It’s a gift I gave you, really.”

“If you keep saying that I am going to downgrade your room to a storage closet.”

“You wouldn’t.” Molly finishes drying off, surprised by how much water this fabric has soaked up in so little time. He thinks about his room now, and how it would fit him and Caleb very easily tonight.

He thinks Caleb would probably join him, if he offered, but there’s something niggling at the back of his mind about how he has successfully discovered that Caleb is attracted to him, and consummated that interest, but… there’s something else, some kind of  _want_  and  _anxiety_  wrapped around it, with no evidence to show that Caleb has this same unbalancing feeling too. Molly makes a face and curls his tail around his leg, looking for a place to hang up his towel before realizing he can just throw it on the floor.

“I’m making a mess,” he declares, sitting down and starting to gather his clothes and put them on again. The afterglow of his orgasm is making his muscles feel like warm jelly, still working but aching to stretch out somewhere comfortable and doze. But he feels rattled at the same time, and he realizes that he’s got to get to safe ground and figure this out.

“Mess?” Caleb, only dressed in trousers and an unbuttoned shirt, leans around the curtain again and frowns until he sees the towel. “Ah. Truly, you are a rebel.”

“Yes,” Molly agrees. He is something of a rebel. He is not like other people. He does not want to pick which of the two bed options he wants to snuggle Caleb in. “You know, I really hope that next time you make this place you give yourself a bigger bed.”

“O-oh?” Still half visible, Caleb’s eyebrows raise a little like he’s not certain he can take that the way he wants to take it.

“I mean, it’s completely up to you if you’d like to fool around again.” Molly focuses on that calming, no-pressure smile and finds it to be a nice way to push away other thoughts. “Hells, not just me, your options are open. We go to new towns all the time.” He gestures wide and finds that his mouth is set on Bullshit Rambling and he can’t find the switch. Time to go. “I’m going to go test out my new room. See you in the morning? For some Rornish Hen, or whatever you said that was downstairs?”

“Ja, hen.” Caleb looks a little confused, but not hurt, as Molly grabs his boots and folds his coat over his arm. “Um, thank you, for tonight. It was.”

“I really liked it too,” Molly says, and  _does not_  feel a weird feeling when Caleb lights up at that and smiles.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow, downstairs.” Caleb nods and walks him, half dressed, to the door. Molly gives him a friendly wink and walks barefoot down the hallway, to his room, where he sets down his clothes and locks the door behind him and very slowly slides down the wall.

 _What_  is going  _on_.

Molly takes a breath, scrubbing his hands down his face before getting up and walking past the tea set to the bed. He hesitates, then gives in to curiosity, grabbing a teacup and sitting on the settee to examine the little gold detailing on the rim, the intricate geometric designs looping through each other symmetrically. Molly has never seen a set like this, especially without a single chip on even a saucer, but he is pained by how fond he is of it, and that he doesn’t know if it’s because of the style or because Caleb picked it especially for him in hopes that he’d enjoy it.

He gets back to his feet and spreads his toes in the thick, springy rug. It’s luxurious and colorful. Molly groans and tumbles with no small amount of drama onto the bed. It’s irritatingly comfortable. From here, he can stare at the elaborate tapestries lining one wall that are, each and every one of them, thoughtful gestures made by an observant man that he is wishing he had not left to come in this beautiful gorgeous comfortable room.

Molly falls asleep with his trousers still on.


	9. Chapter 9

Molly wakes up because something huge and metal drops, somewhere, echoing for several seconds. He sits up, hands digging for purchase in the smooth top sheet he passed out on, and tries to piece together what he heard.

He’s in the spell mansion thing. In his room. The metal sound was… downstairs. Pub?  _Kitchen_.

Molly gets fully dressed, straightening out his chains as much as he can and carding his fingers through his hair a few times until he feels like himself. He’s halfway down the hall when he hears Beau.

“Kiri, you’re so cute!”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Kiri’s responding in Jester’s voice, just as Molly rounds the corner and starts down the stairs. Beau is smiling at a large white bundle of towel that Jester is carrying, which must contain Kiri. Fjord is wandering through the chairs, looking for something.

“Here’s one,” he says, and grabs a ‘high chair’ by the top rung. “Kiri, how about here?”

“ _Stammtisch_ ,” Kiri says in Caleb’s voice, and something about the familiar tenor makes something weird happen in Molly’s gut that he definitely did not sign off on. “ _Please,_ ” Kiri adds, when Fjord gives her a confused look.

“Good morning,” Beau says, actually sounding like she means it. “Did the roasting pan wake you up?”

“Morning. Is that what it was? It sounded like a cauldron falling from a second story window.”

Jester turns and gives him an amused grin. “Beau tried to get it off a hook and it fell.”

“It was a weird hook,” Beau retorts.

“Yeah, but I bet it woke up Caleb too, and he needs his rest after…” Jester gestures around with her free hand. “Making an entire tiny world?”

Nott comes out of the kitchen with a fancy carved tray for coffee service. Everyone but Kiri makes an enthused appreciative sound. (Kiri imitates the sound once she realizes she’s missed something.)

“Molly, would you put this up on something for me? Thank you.” Nott’s beaming, clearly in her element. Molly guesses that she’s been rooting for Caleb nonstop since they all met her, and now that they just enjoyed a beautiful night’s rest in a magical world of his creation, the little goblin is feeling pretty validated. Reasonable. “Yasha’s making eggs with bits of duck inside them, and a couple other things, but it won’t be ready for a little while longer.”

“Eggs with duck…?” Fjord squints.

Nott starts to gesture. “A hard-boiled egg, but then you cut it in half, and take out the middle, and she grilled some of the duck - I think it’s duck? It might be pheasant? Some kind of Zemnian bird? Anyway, tiny chopped bits of bird and spices and that all goes in the middle, and so there’s a huge plate of little… half eggs… with duck…” She shrugs. “It looks good. I’m excited.”

“There’s definitely no rats, though,” Fjord says, checking.

“No, the kitchen didn’t have any, and also, oh! Scrambled eggs with bacon.  We’re still getting it all together. But, first, coffee.” She points to the service Molly just set on the nearest table and skitters back into the kitchen.

“ _Stammtisch_ ,” Kiri repeats, as Jester is lowering her bundled little self into a high chair at the nearest table.

“Does that mean no?” Jester says. “You want me to keep holding you?” She looks over to Molly. “Hey, we haven’t asked  _you_ yet, Molly. Did you have to pee last night?”

“…you could not have possibly asked a question I was less prepared for.”

Beau rolls her eyes. “The bathrooms here,” she clarifies, “are fuckin’  _nuts_.”

“Oh! Oh.” Molly blinks several times as he suppresses a couple key images of what happened in one specific bathroom. “The second room kind of looks like… a dream?”

“The tiles and then the moss and then the water?  _Yeah._ ” Fjord’s lifting his eyebrows in emphasis, and Molly finds himself gratified that he sounds suitably appreciative. “I could stand to soak in one of those things every fuckin’ night. My shoulders are waaaay better now.”

“Kiri loves the towels and she won’t get back into her tunic,” Jester reports, cooing. “But it is okay, because when she runs around naked she is just a little bird, and we are all family anyway.”

Beau grins. “Kiri, have you been enjoying your summer vacation?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Kiri says back in Beau’s voice.

“You gonna tell your gnome mom and gnome dad you had fun with us?”

“ _Yeah!”_

“You gonna tell em we accidentally ran into goblins and had to fight ‘em?”

Kiri hesitates a moment. “ _Fuck no!_ ”

“Good girl.” Beau smirks and leans in to ruffle the feathers on her head, nodding as Fjord passes her a little teacup of coffee. “Shit, this is fancy.” She takes a sip and freezes, pulling the teacup to arms length to stare at it. “Oh my  _god_.”

Fjord and Jester perk at this reaction, and Jester finally sets Kiri down to begin pouring herself a cup. Molly watches as Kiri squirms unhappily in her towel bundle. “ _Stammtisch. Bitte._ ”

Molly walks over, kneeling down and tugging some of the towel back so he can see one beady black eye. “Those are Zemnian words, honey bee. Can you say it a different way?”

Kiri’s face manages to express a distinct disappointment that Molly can’t understand very simple things, and she squirms and shifts in her swaddle until an arm is free and she can point over to to the huge, round table at the front of the pub.

“That one? Okay, okay.” Molly gathers her bundle carefully, surprised as always at how light she is, and leans her against his hip so he can have one arm free to tug her chair along behind him. “Ladies and gentleman, I’ve been informed that we’re relocating to the big table.”

“Okay,” Fjord says, “but you gotta try some of this fuckin’ stuff, it’s like,”

“Finely ground?” Beau hazards.

“Yeah, and… jeez. Okay, Beau, you get the tray, I’ll get this…”

It’s not long before the service has been carried over. Molly pulls a second high chair over for when Nott returns and finds that, actually, the table is the perfect size for all of them. When he sits down, Kiri leans over and nudges a curl of his hair with her beak affectionately.

“You were right,” he agrees, “this table fits us.”

“ _EGGS!_ ” Nott yells scratchily, kicking the kitchen door open and carrying a large tray with a huge bowl and a stack of plates. Fjord gets up and rushes over to intercept, and once it’s being carried by someone a bit taller Molly can see a serving bowl of scrambled eggs, a plate of toast, a stack of plates, cutlery, and-

“Are those  _cloth napkins_?” Jester squeals happily.

“Your usual shit,” Beau murmurs. “Hey, somebody wake Caleb up, he should definitely be eating this hot with us.”

“Fuck,  _yes_ ,” Jester enthuses. “Nott, you go get him, I can go carry things for Yasha.”

“Very good point, yes, going,” Nott says, and starts running up the stairs.

“There’s stuff in there,” Fjord says reverently, using a large serving spoon to begin portioning out the eggs. “These are chives, right?”

Molly leans forward and bites his lip. “This is… chives, bacon, salt and pepper, herbs I don’t know, diced bell pepper… that’s sausage, I think, Gods, there’s everything back there.”

“And she’s making half-egg things too?” Beau asks around a mouthful of scrambled eggs on toast.

Molly shrugs. “She only knows a few ‘big’ dishes, but they’re pretty good when she doesn’t have to substitute ingredients. Back at the circus, people always complained that she didn’t add cheese to the scrambled eggs, but they were never the ones cooking… so they were cordially invited to go fuck themselves.”

“ _Tasty_ ,”  Kiri says, wiggling happily at the small plate in front of her.

“I will eat all egg stuff if Yasha is making it,” Jester enthuses. Beau tries to make her agreeing grunt sound casual, but it fails, and Molly levels her a look.

“I’m surprised you weren’t in the kitchen acting as her runner,” Molly remarks. To his delight, Beau’s face reddens.

“Beau was shamed out of the kitchen after the roasting pan incident,” Fjord confides in a stage whisper.

“It was a  _weird shaped hook_ ,” Beau hisses.

“The man of the hour!” Nott is standing at the top of the stairs, presenting a sleep-mussed and shyly waving Caleb. “Our host!” She beams from pointed ear to pointed ear when the room breaks out in applause, and Caleb manages to handle it well for about half the trip down the staircase until he is nodding and blushing and gesturing that that’s enough, now.

“Coffee’s  _rad_ ,” Beau says, still talking around a mouthful of food.

“Yes,” Jester agrees. “We have eggs and toast, and later, more eggs apparently.”

Caleb blinks repeatedly and pulls out a chair next to the empty high chair. Of course he plans to sit next to Nott, Molly thinks, and is suddenly irritated with himself for not realizing this earlier, and for caring. Seated between Kiri and Fjord, he should be perfectly happy with his dining partners.

“It looks delicious,” Caleb says, nodding thanks as the huge bowl and serving spoon are pushed toward him. “This - who made this?”

“Yasha and I,” Nott says. “I mostly just buttered the toast and chopped things for her. I’m not used to making these kinds of foods.”

“Your camp roasts are excellent, though.” Caleb gives her a heartfelt smile and Molly pushes his attention elsewhere. Beside him, Kiri is gently nudging bits of bell pepper across her plate, isolating them and then tossing them in the air with her beak so she can catch them and chomp them down. It shouldn’t still be endearing after all this time, Molly thinks fondly to himself.

Nott disappears back into the kitchen after messily scarfing down some toast, and Caleb gets himself settled with a poured cup of coffee and some bites of food. Jester has laid out several forks at her place in a very specific arrangement and has her napkin in her lap. Beside her, Fjord’s napkin is tucked into his shirt and he is holding the plate up with one hand and using the fork with the other. Beau’s not far from Fjord’s level of table manners, but she’s moving so fast with new portions it’s hard to be sure.

“I know we said it last night, Caleb, but this spell is awesome.” Beau is pointing with her fork for emphasis. “I had a hot bath last night. And I want to know where the hell you’ve seen those towels.”

“I haven’t,” Caleb admits. “I have just always wished that towels were bigger.”

Jester and Fjord make agreeing sounds around mouthfuls of food.

“Molly, you don’t like Yasha’s cooking?” Caleb’s frowning at his plate. “There are some cold dishes in the ice box back there, I could-”

“No! I’m just still waking up. Sorry.” Molly smiles and takes a sip of his coffee. “I’ve always liked whatever Yasha makes. She never under-seasons.”

“ _Tasty_ ,” Kiri agrees, and looks around for a moment. “ _Water?_ ”

Jester blinks. “Oh! I’m sorry, sweet heart, we forgot to get you something to drink.”

Molly gets up and pats the little betoweled bird on the head. “I’ll go get a cup and see if I can switch out with Yasha or Nott.”


	10. Chapter 10

The kitchen is a  _mess_. Yasha doesn’t look up when Molly walks in, but Nott does, turning from a small bowl of hard boiled eggs that she’s stuffing in her face.

“Dese are da fugubs!” Nott says, cheeks full.

“The fuckups?” Molly guesses, and Nott nods. “Well, if Yasha’s not smacking you away from it, I’m not going to. I’m here to get water for Kiri.”

“Shib, Giri.” Nott swallows her food and hops off the counter, scrambling onto a different one and opening a cabinet that turns out to have mugs. She rifles through them, pulling out a fancy handled one and holding it out for Molly to take. “Jug’s over there.”

“Okay. You can take it out to her and get a break, if you want? Yasha deemed me an acceptable cooking partner a while back.”

“Molly’s fine,” Yasha confirms, not looking up from stirring something in an ornately carved wooden bowl.

“Deal, I want more toast.” Nott hops down again and takes the mug once Molly’s filled it, disappearing through the door.

“Big platters are in that lower corner cabinet,” Yasha says, gesturing behind her without looking.

“Just one?”

“Yes.”

Molly digs one out, feeling very much like someone who’s looting a stupidly rich person’s kitchen, and sets it down on the counter. “Next?”

“All the half eggs Nott scooped holes onto, arrange them on there.”

Molly looks over and realizes that the small bowl of mistake eggs came from what must be thirty or forty ‘success’ eggs. “On it,” he croaks, and starts trying to make it pretty.

Yasha clears her throat. “I made a duck, too,” she confides, and Molly looks over his shoulder and frowns at her back.

“What happened?”

“It’s  _really_  dry.” Yasha sets down her bowl, walking over to a huge silver covered dish that Molly assumed had nothing inside. When Yasha lifts the dragon-shaped handle…

“It looks like a  _mummy_ ,” Molly squeaks.

Yasha winces and puts the cover back down. “I can’t believe I wasted an entire duck.”

“It’s just a magic duck,” Molly soothes. “It was never even alive.” Yasha heaves a sigh and nods reluctantly. “How long have you been awake, anyway? All this food?”

“I slept  _amazingly_ , and then I woke up and had no idea what time it was and didn’t… want to wake anyone.” She shrugs and picks her wooden spoon back up. “This is ready. We’ll use normal spoons to put the mix in the little egg holes.”

Molly squints. “You’ve talked about this dish before. Isn’t it a festival thing?”

“I liked having an excuse to make it,” Yasha admits. “I don’t… normally have everything fresh at the same time.”

“We don’t carry mayonnaise on the road.” Molly’s chest blooms in warmth when that gets a genuine smile from her. “Hey, um.” He bites his lip as he picks up his first egg, nudging a little lump of mix into it before setting it down and beginning on the next. “So I might have, um. Fucked up.”

Yasha’s head snaps up in alarm. “Did you hurt him?”

Molly flinches a little. “No!  _No_ , specifically did not.”

Yasha relaxes, but her eyes remain suspicious. “But something did happen with him last night.”

“How are you doing the eggs so fast?”

“Answer the question, Mollymauk.”

Molly sets his jaw. “We may have spent some time together.”

“He didn’t like it?”

“No, he… he liked it.” Molly can feel his tail flicking anxiously behind him. Annoyed with the tell, he wraps it around his boot. “He’s fine.”

Yasha mulls over this, scraping the spoon along the edge of the bowl, and then looks over at Molly. “Are you alright?”

“…I don’t know what’s going on,” Molly admits quietly to his egg.

“Did he hurt  _you_?”

“No.”

“He didn’t say something, or do something, or reject you somehow?”

“No, we both liked what happened, and… I think he’d like to do it again sometime if I offered.”

“Do  _you_  want to do it again?”

“I don’t like this,” Molly says firmly, and flicks the mix off his spoon with more force than necessary. It splatters across the egg instead dropping of into the little hole, and he lifts it up and stuffs the mistake into his mouth with a scowl.

“I’m still not sure what’s bothering you.” Yasha walks away to grab a second platter, laying it on the last bit of counter space and then spinning around a few times before finally spotting a deep burgundy pair of oven mitts. She puts them on and kneels down to one of the strange ovens, opening it and unleashing a powerful steamy waft of biscuit smell.

Molly closes his eyes and breathes in. “That,” he says reverently, “ _that_  is where the cheese belongs.”

“Just a little,” Yasha murmurs, pulling out a metal tray and starting to scoot the biscuits on to the nicer platter. “Molly, something’s clearly upsetting you.”

Molly tries to grasp the right words. “I’m… worried… I want him to  _like_  me?” He tilts his head as he says it, trying the sentence out and not sure how he feels.

“Do you think he liked having sex with you but doesn’t like  _you?_ ” Yasha frowns at the platter. “Does that seem like him?”

“No, I think he likes me fine, I just… I still feel like I  _want_  to make him  _like_  me and I’m  _worried_ that he  _won’t_  and it’s not, it’s not team dynamics, and he’s not a mark, or a john, he’s not like any of the people I’ve slept with for fun, but…”

The door starts to open, and Molly jumps about a foot in the air at the sound. “That was delicious,” Caleb says, smiling widely at Yasha and carrying a tray with a large empty bowl. “Kiri loves bell peppers now. She had never had them before!”

“Good,” Yasha says slowly, and takes the platter from him. She looks around, and jerks her chin to the platter of biscuits. “Those aren’t eggs. They should go next.”

“The eggs are fine,” Caleb reassures, and scoots past Molly to get the biscuits. “Really, thank you for cooking, I am so-” Caleb stops short as he notices Yasha’s hand that’s held up for silence. Deliberately, she moves the covered silver platter on the counter to the side, revealing an empty glass jar with tiny flower designs etched into it. There are remnants of something golden yellow along the corners of the bottom, but it’s otherwise empty. Understanding dawns on Molly.

“What was in here?” Yasha asks.

“That one was… honey,” Caleb says slowly.

“What  _kind_. Please.”

Caleb blinks. “Zemnian fields wildflower honey.”

Yasha points to the empty jar. “As long as you have that in here, I am perfectly happy to make food.”

Molly pipes up. “Did any of that honey make it into the dishes?”

“It  _absolutely_  did not,” Yasha says, and gestures for Caleb to move along. Caleb nods several times, gripping the platter tightly as he scoots past Molly again and back out the door. Molly watches him go, turning to give Yasha a knowing look about her sweet tooth being exposed, but her expression is… unexpected.

“What?” Molly asks.

“You could have just said.”

“Said  _what?_ That he’s -” Molly gestures to the door. “I said he was fine, he  _is_ fine. He’s a little chipper from being laid, but he’s not  _sappy_ or  _maudlin_  or-”

“Molly.”

He feels an unexpected flare of anger rise up in him. “I  _don’t know what I’m allegedly hiding from you right now._ ”

Yasha looks at him, frowning, and he sighs and grabs the small spoon up again, getting the mix into the last of the half eggs before hauling the platter up and beginning to carry it out without another word.

**

Back in the pub, Kiri has wiggled out of her towel, and is wearing a surprisingly ornate looking gold circlet. Nott seems to be showing little gems to Jester and Beau, who are leaning in with interest and too smart to ask to hold anything.

“ _Princess!_ ” Kiri says in a little gnome girl voice, preening.

“Did we loot a mausoleum while I was in there?” Molly sets the tray of half eggs down, not surprised when people start scrambling to get some on their plate. Someone, Molly also noticed, has piled high a plate with a large helping of everything and set it aside. Yasha deserves that and more, he thinks to himself.

“Caleb remembers a bunch of jewelry and stuff from shops and museums,” Jester explains, eyes still locked on an emerald bracelet. “Nott has a ton of cool shit in her room and she brought some so Kiri could play dress-up.”

Molly looks to Caleb, who flushes deeply and looks down at his lap. To the human’s credit, his shyness seems to be completely about the attention he’s receiving now and not about anything that may have happened before.

“ _Prince!”_  Kiri chirps, clicking and taking her circlet off so she can hold it out to Fjord. Fjord blinks, but accepts the offering and sets it on his head.

“Like this?” The circlet isn’t perfectly centered, and he’s looking up at it with a bit of apprehension.

“ _Handsome_ ,” Kiri says in Jester’s voice, and several people laugh and applaud.

“The little diamond rose buds really do something for you,” Molly intones, flicking it gently as he passes him by to get back to his seat.

“Whaddafug  _are_ dese!?”

“Beau, seriously, we’ve talked about the table manners.”

Beau shoots Fjord a dirty look. “There’s nobody aroun’. An’, Molly-” She points a finger accusingly at the almost-empty tray of half eggs, demanding an explanation.

“Secret Xhorhasian fesitval thing,” Molly says mysteriously.

“What’s  _in_ ‘em?”

“Nobody knows,” Molly replies, and shoots Nott a look. She nods, already knowing the secret feminine rules about recipe sharing. Good.

Beau burps and taps her fist against her chest. “These… might be in my top ten.”

Jester’s eyes widen. “Favorite foods?” She asks, knowing the importance of that list, and Beau nods.

“Does it surpass duck?” Fjord butts in. “Because you’ve been ramblin’ on about duck since day before yesterday.”

“Duck melts in your mouth when cooked right and nothing will ever surpass it. BUT.” Beau points meaningfully at the half eggs again, like one might to a powerful and largely unknown arcane object.

“ _Prince_ ,” Kiri says, and sets one of her huge ruby-encrusted rings on top of the half egg on her dish.

Jester looks up. “Caleb, I have a Zemnian question.”

“Shoot.”

“What does Stammtisch mean?”

Caleb raps his knuckles gently on the table, not looking up from his food, and Jester gives him a blank look. “We are sitting at it,” he says after an awkward pause, realizing that nobody else seems to know either. “In. Where I come from, the table you always sit at when you go with friends or family, it’s got a name. So, I made us one that can actually seat us all.”

“That’s kinda sweet,” Fjord remarks, smiling crookedly.

“We’ve definitely got dibs on this one, nobody else is walkin’ in this bar.” Beau grins.

“I know, I know, it was a little unnecessary, I just.” Caleb looks like he’s getting flustered.

“ _We can push some tables together,_ ” Kiri says quietly, in Caleb’s voice. Caleb looks up and nods, gesturing to her.

“Ja. There’s always so many of us, we’re always grabbing chairs from everywhere, moving furniture around, I figured. An easy spot.”

Molly frowns at Kiri. “You said that before, didn’t you? When we were waiting for Caleb to come out of the door that first time?”

Kiri clicks and nods.

“I didn’t ever  _mean_  to teach Kiri any Zemnian, I just ramble a lot and sometimes she picks it up.” Caleb looks at Kiri, who quirks her head a little. “And, yes, okay, sometimes I ramble  _to_ you. You are a very patient listener.”

“ _Wrapped around his weenie_.”

“Okay, let’s focus.” Fjord takes a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Is there anything - Yasha! Hey, we saved you a plate - is there anything we need to do in here before we walk out and Caleb… turns the spell off?”

“This is too much food,” Yasha says quietly to the small mountain on her plate.

“We wanted to make sure you weren’t hungry after all that work,” Jester intones seriously. “Also, I kept you some biscuits but over here so they wouldn’t get soggy. Caleb, can you pass - thank you.”

“I’m good, I’m ready to start heading back.” Beau crosses her arms. “Great rest, great meal.”

“Same,” Nott adds scratchily, and the others nod in turn.

“Okay. We’ll head back to town, drop Kiri off,” Fjord pauses as a series of groans emits at the table.

“ _Bullshit,_ ” Kiri pipes up in Beau’s voice.

“I know, sweetheart, I know. We’ll drop Kiri off and not like it, and then we’ll restock in town. Sound like a decent short term plan?”

“We need to get more little doors,” Jester points out. “In town.”

Caleb shrugs. “I could make another,” he mumbles. “It’s not a difficult design.”

“Nothing is, to you.” Beau gestures at the entirety of the room.

“I just mean, it is carved out of bone, we see a lot of bones in our line of work. Buying them from a magic shop is silly.”

Jester squints and leans in. “You turn  _bones_  into  _magic houses?”_

Caleb squints back. “I mean, there is a lot more to it than just the little…  bit of scrimshaw, but, yes, the bone is part of what makes the ‘magic house’.”

“Magic is _fucking insane_ ,” Molly singsongs, before thinking about why he might not want to. Caleb’s face drops in a moment of panic, color disappearing from it, but nobody’s noticing because they’re latching on to the line and agreeing with it.

“It  _is_ ,” Jester enthuses. “I mean, do you ever just watch Fjord’s armor appear from nowhere, and, like-”

“-with the wings that come out of nowhere and-”

Molly’s pulled out of his reverie because something is clicking against his horn’s chains. He peeks up and sees that Kiri has stood up in her high chair so she can reach the chain that is flipped over, nudging it back into place with her beak before sitting back down.


	11. Chapter 11

In the time they’ve been together, the Nein have actually gotten very good at shopping efficiently. There’s plenty of them to split up into separate sting operations, and Fjord’s absolute frustration with the details of shopping, comparing options, and haggling keep everyone motivated to get their bit done by the time they meet back at the inn.

There’s an exciting new component, though, where everyone takes turns sitting in the wagon and writing down what they want or need in the mansion next time.

Caleb looks over the little scraps of paper from everyone, muttering to himself intermittently, sometimes to Kiri, sometimes sidling up to someone and asking for clarification. When it’s Molly’s turn with the paper and quill, he takes his time and tries to think of what he really needs.

And what he’s willing to write down.

  * _dish of biscuits to go with the tea  
_
  * _red wine and glasses_
  * _3-panel full length mirror_



How to write the next part?

  * _something to wear to bed (whatever you pick is fine)  
_
  * _skin cream, maybe?_



That should be clear enough, right?

Molly hands the paper over, watching as Caleb scans it. The light flush to his cheeks is the only indication since Molly’s fuck up at the breakfast table that morning that Caleb remembers last night.

“Ja, okay,” Caleb says, his stilted tone not out of the norm for how he gets when he starts thinking about the mansion layout. “Und, also,” he gestures very broadly to the bottom half of the paper. “If there’s this, I’m, there might be, behind the lion tapestry, perhaps?”

Molly tilts his head. “Sorry?”

Caleb apparently can’t clarify right now, stuffing the note into his coat pocket and turning to return to the back of the cart where Nott is sitting. Molly watches him go, trying to piece things together. Caleb seemed to understand Molly’s intentions, the suggestion of something later, and while he didn’t seem  _averse_ Molly’s not sure what the hell his words actually meant.

**

“Kiri, you’re not excited to go back to your gnome mama and your gnome papa?” Jester is holding her tightly as they turn the corner to her street.

“And your little gnome siblings?” Caleb adds.

“ _Good people_ ,” Kiri says, in Fjord’s voice. Then, in Yasha’s: “ _But I’ll miss you._ ”

Jester sniffles and kisses the top of her head.

**

They eat lunch quickly, not ordering much after the breakfast they inhaled, and most of the meal is spent reminiscing over Yasha’s cooking and reminding Caleb that his new spell is incredible, and they all adore him.

“Molly, you have to, too,” Jester says, shaking his shoulder.

“Hm?” He’s barely been paying attention.

“You’re like Beau, when we all complimented Caleb, and she was just  _quiet_ like she  _hated_ him.”

“Oh.” Molly straightens, clearing his throat theatrically and tossing his hair back for extra effect. “Well, I guess I had my own fully furnished bedroom, with a king-size bed that had  _no bugs_  or  _lumps_  and  _beautiful soft sheets…_  I  _guess_ that’s slightly unusual for my life-” He pauses as several laugh with him. “And a magic wash room, I  _guess_ I don’t normally have those. And unlimited food and drink. Whatever. It was fine, I guess.”

“I’ll try harder next time,” Caleb promises with mock seriousness, and breaks into a small smile when everyone laughs again. “Really though, I, I should also be thanking all of you. I would not have had the time or resources to study this spell, to become knowledgeable enough to, to cast it. If you were not all saving my skinny ass every time we run into something. So, thank you.”

“You hold your own just  _fine_ , Caleb.” Nott pats his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Jester says. “Just because you’re super weak and  _really_ really skinny, you know, that doesn’t mean that you don’t do cool stuff on the battlefield that helps us fight better, and helps the bad guys die.”

“That is an interesting use of ‘helps’, at the end, there,” Caleb muses under his breath.

**

They split up. Beau and Yasha focus on basic supplies, and Nott goes with Fjord to the magic shop to sell some trinkets and see if there’s anything new that might help them. (Nott and Fjord promise to buy up paper and ink if it’s there. Caleb repeats it several times and hands Fjord gold for the specific purpose.)

Jester, Caleb, and Molly visit the luxuries district.

“It’s for morale, it’s  _absolutely_  important,” Jester says, ushering them into a small shop with an extremely cursive name on the door. Inside, there is a strong aroma of hibiscus and tea tree and honey, and several things Molly can’t identify.

Molly squints appreciatively at Jester. “You’re bringing Caleb to  _window_ -shop,” he says accusingly.

Jester throws up her hands. “It’s inspiration! Of what could… magically… be!”

Caleb picks up a bottle of scented oil, sniffing it before flinching a little at the strength of it and putting it back. “You did not like the soaps and shampoos I picked, I see.”

“No, I  _loved_  them, Caleb, I’ve  _missed_  that kind of stuff, so, you know, our itinerary is very short, I have it mapped out in my head, just um, here, and then there is a makeup place about four doors down, and…” She stops as Caleb barks out some laughter.

“I don’t… I don’t know anything about makeup, Jester. I don’t know what it is, what it’s made of…”

“But I can  _show_  you,” Jester says patiently. “It’s just a lot of little pots of kohl and cream in different colors.”

“I feel specifically roped into this because you think I also want some of this,” Molly remarks aloud.

“You appreciate  _nice things_ , Molly, and Caleb  _listens_  to you.” Jester pokes his shoulder and misses how stiff he is at the moment. “Even if it’s just makeup that will leave our faces as soon as we walk out, and the nice smells won’t follow us out of the mansion either, it’s, it’s just… it’s a nice break!”

“I will learn the weird bottles and pots,” Caleb promises quietly. He reaches out hesitantly to a small paper packet with… dried herbs inside? He frowns at it.

“You tip it out into a warm bath,” Molly explains.

“Our baths would just scoot this right along and you would never get the effect,” Caleb mumbles, and Jester laughs and hugs his arm.

“We don’t need that, that’s fine. Come on! I want to show you the little scrubby things they have, I think you’d like them for yourself, too.”

**

“When you,” Caleb clears his throat, lowering his voice and pretending to examine a heart shaped piece of soap. “when you said, skin cream,”

“Absolutely not skin cream,” Molly confirms serenely.

Caleb’s face is reddening under the freckles, and then he’s nodding.

“Only if you want, of course.” Molly finds comfort in this role; it’s familiar. Someone is overwhelmed by him, and he soothes them and entices them in the same stroke. “Like I said before, there’s no pressure to,”

“I could make something like that,” Caleb says abruptly, and turns, walking several paces before stopping, coming back to return the soap to the basket marked  _Rose_ , and walking away again.

**

The beauty shop isn’t far away, but Molly sees a child selling fruits and gets an idea. He diverts them to the center of town where the outdoor market is bustling. The main aisles are all wooden boxes of the usual fare, but Molly starts throwing two of all the weird things, the  _expensive_  things, into a basket, and Caleb’s eyebrows fly up and he starts to help.

“We don’t need two, um, I just need a bite or so,” he mumbles under his breath.

“But I figure everyone can try them and we can figure out who wants to eat what, or cook with what.” Molly picks up something small and green weirdly textured and holds it down to the gnome fruitseller’s eye level. “Sorry, what’s this?”

“A kiwi, ma’am.” The old man squints up a moment through thick glasses. “Or… sir. Sorry.”

“No problem,” Molly says, and tosses two into the basket. “Either works. Unless one gets a discount, then I’m that.” Jester giggles behind him.

**

They come back to the inn with two small fancy bags for Jester, and three large sacks of fruits and vegetables. The second they drop their bags at the pub table in the corner, Jester rummages single-mindedly until she pulls out a suggestively shaped squash.

“ _Look_ ,” she says, holding it out to Beau. “They  _all_ looked like this!  _I didn’t just get lucky and find a dirty one!_ ”

“We’ve been extremely productive,” Molly reports, clicking his heels together as he looks to Fjord. “How did you fare?”

“The goblins’ bag of loot was actually really, um, depressing,” Fjord says, looking over at Nott. “The shopkeeper recognized the elf who used to wield it all.”

“But he believed us that we didn’t kill the guy and take his valuables,” Nott butts in. “So, you know, could have been worse.”

Beau groans. “We sent the half orc and the goblin to go sell a dead guy’s stuff to someone who knew him?”

“We couldn’t have known,” Caleb mutters. “Just bad luck. Fjord’s well spoken, he got them through it.”

“I hid behind an armor display,” Nott pipes up.

“Good call.”

“We also got your…” Fjord pulls out Jester’s borrowed haversack, opening it and beginning to dig around in it. Caleb straightens up and claps his hands together.

“Ah! Danke, was everything in stock? I’m so glad.”

“It was,” Fjord says, and Molly detects a note of something warm and sneaky as he sets the one promised ivory door on the table, and then a wrapped bottle of ink, and then…  _another_ bottle _,_  and then a third.

Caleb’s face falls a little. “Fjord, I am sorry, but I need the expensive stuff, or it won’t-”

“It is,” Fjord reassures with a grin, and Molly looks around and sees that several of the Nein are also smiling, quietly pleased. After the fourth bottle, he starts pulling out stacks of paper. Caleb swallows and looks to Nott. 

“I only gave you enough for the door, one bottle, and one stack.”

“He took that and threw me outside,” Nott says, also surprised. “I thought he was trying to make sure the shopkeeper didn’t notice that I’m a - you know.”

“It was that, and also so you wouldn’t rat on us and spoil the surprise.” Fjord sets the fourth stack of paper neatly on the pub table and grins. “Caleb, most of us can do what we do without havin’ to buy supplies. So, we figured it was only fair to chip in a little, as a thank you.”

Molly looks over to Yasha and frowns slightly:  _I didn’t hear about this?_

Yasha leans in and speaks quietly: “You were writing your wish list at the time. No big deal. Pay me back later.”

Caleb, meanwhile, is flabbergasted, looking around the table as Nott holds up a bottle disbelievingly.

“Did you all plan this behind our backs?” She asks.

“You’ve bought him enough stuff, Nott.” Beau gives her shoulder a friendly shove.

“Well, I… suppose it’s okay this time.” Nott looks over to Caleb. “Right, Caleb?”

“I do not know what to say,” Caleb says weakly. Jester coos and leans over to hug him.

“Say you feel appreciated, because you are.” She squeezes his shoulders. “And  _not_  just because I got to have a hot bath and try six different shampoos.”

Fjord’s eyes narrow. “How do you use six shampoos in one bath?”

“Very very very happily.”

**

Yasha asks Caleb if he wouldn’t mind one more trip before sundown, and Caleb, who knows how often Yasha asks for favors (never), agrees.

“Molly, are you busy?”

“I haven’t had real work since the circus and you know it,” Molly says languidly, but his eyes are on hers, asking her if this is some kind of setup.

“I think my idea is good, but having more people there would be… better. Sort of like you three at the market today.”

“Ooh.” Molly loves this new stealing-without-stealing game. “Where’re we headed?”

“A bookshop.”

Caleb perks at the ‘b’ word and immediately points to the direction they need to go. Yasha actually laughs, albeit quietly. “I was thinking about some interior design books,” he’s saying, already speaking very quickly. “But also, um, cook books, if you would be interested?”

“That was my idea,” Yasha says warmly. “Great minds think alike, I guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out on [tumblr](https://ivadeshin.tumblr.com/).


	12. Chapter 12

A week or so passes.

“Is this like the cage you three were in, Yasha?”

Yasha looks up from leaning her head on the bars, bruised and battered and not very interested in answering questions right now. “Yes, Caleb,” she says finally. “This one’s a bit bigger, though. Seeing as you made sure we  _all_  got arrested.”

“Would’ve been much more difficult if we were separated,” Caleb’s mumbling, and his eyes are on the cage carriages in front, just beyond that, where the horses are starting to move. “Can everyone, um. Can everyone please move to the edges of the cage.”

“We can’t move  _anywhere_ ,” Jester snaps. “We are already at the edges. And the middle. And the top. And the bottom. Nott is on my lap right now.”

“I’m a bit bony,” Nott admits apologetically.

“No, no, it is fine. I am just trying to make Caleb feel bad.”

Nott sighs and is apparently too tired to champion her wizard. Molly leans against the bars, tapping his horns rhythmically.

“Please don’t do that,” Fjord says.

“Sorry.”

“S’okay.” Fjord, who Molly can’t actually see, mutters something under his breath. Then, “Caleb,  _did_  you have a reason for pissing off the captain of the guard and getting us all thrown in here?”

“If it were just half of us, and if I was not in here, especially, I could not…” Caleb clears his throat as they pass a throng of guards talking along the side of the road. “I really would like to try to scoot to the middle, is that alright with everyone? I just need, ah, a little surface area…”

Something clicks in Molly’s mind. “It’s … it’s at a fixed point?” He asks.

“Of course. It does not link itself to, um, the floor, or whatever is acting as the floor…” Caleb sounds very pleased all of a sudden, like he’s proud that Molly got it.

“Are you sure it’ll work when we’re moving?”

“We don’t move endlessly,” Caleb says. “Sometimes you stop at a crossroads. Sometimes you stop because the driver needs to go piss…”

Beau’s head whirls around. “Wait. Wait.  _Wait_.”

“Shh,” Caleb hisses. “Nothing is exciting. We are all arrested. We are very sad.”

Beau makes a frustrated sound and lowers her voice. “ _How long does that door take to make?_ ”

“A minute. But I need enough room to draw the-” There’s a sudden shuffle of bodies, as people stack on top of each other and begin laying crossways to create a perimeter around him. Yasha is laying on her side with her jaw propped on her elbow. Molly reclines partially in her lap.

Jester is poofing her cloak out a little, trying to make herself a bigger wall. “I love you, Caleb.”

Caleb makes a coughing sound. “I, um. I love you too.”

Molly suppresses what he is now sure is an  _extremely_  immature flare of… something.

**

Two hours later, the sun is down completely and the guards have dismounted and have split up to set up camp and patrol the line of cages. Molly taps his horn on a bar when he sees someone coming on his side, Nott coughs when she sees someone on hers, and slowly, carefully, Caleb makes progress as three people crouch on their feet to make more room for the sigils.

“It’s been longer than a minute,” Beau mutters.

“The door is usually five by ten,” Caleb hisses back. “And upright. I’m having to… we’re going to crawl. It’s going to be Nott-sized.”

“Just the door, right, not the whole mansion?”

“ _Yes,_  Jester.”

Several people let out puffs of relief as Caleb’s finger resumes scratching against the dirty wooden floor of the cage. Molly spots the scrawny guard looping around and taps his horn again. Caleb stops, leans back against Fjord’s arm, and pretends to be bored until he’s gone again.

“Almost,” he says when he’s gone, and they all hear the ‘ _plunk’_ of the tiny ivory door being placed into the center. “Okay, Beau, Nott, Jester, come over here.”

“What do you mean ‘come over there’? There’s no-”

“Just, please, just for a minute. Less than a minute.”

The women push into the other half of the cage, grumbling, until something makes an odd thunk noise and it’s Beau’s heel knocking against a doorknob. Laid flat and crammed into one side of the cage, there is a tiny, gnome-sized door with a brass handle.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Fjord says, and stifles laughter.

“Quickly,” Caleb hisses. “Slip in, don’t fling the door open, if someone sees it for even a second they might know to wait here for long enough that we have to dispel it-”

“Nott, you first, you’re smallest.” Jester almost falls on top of Caleb, and so Molly hops over to hang on the bars above the door, giving the others a bit more room and blocking some of the view.

“Everyone be quick after me,” Nott whispers, and edges the door open just enough to creep in. They watch her go and look around - nothing yet - and then Beau wriggles through, and then Jester, and then, after much arguing, Fjord pushes Caleb in and gives the remaining Yasha and Molly an exasperated look.

“He’s ridiculous,” Molly agrees.

“You’re next smallest,” Fjord says, gesturing him over. Molly hops down off the bars and gives a devilish wave, edging the door open just enough to wriggle in.

And… immediately fall onto a floor.

A hand grabs him, hauling him across clean hardwood floors for about two feet, and he looks up to see Beau. “See,” Beau says, and points to where, instead of a large ornate door fitting perfectly in the corner of the pub, there is instead slightly-off-kilter miniature one that’s horizontal, supported by nothing, about three feet above the floor.

“But it worked,” Caleb says somewhere behind Molly, just as Fjord drops in too.

“Scooch away,” Molly says, and Fjord blinks and begins moving. “Yasha’ll crush ya.”

“Oh. OH! Hah!” Fjord looks from the floating door to Caleb. “That was some smart thinkin’ there.”

“Vielen dank. I’m… glad it worked.” Caleb’s still watching the door, his shoulders only slumping in relief when Yasha tumbles in and rolls to her side. “We’re all here. Okay.”

“We don’t have to leave for a whole day, right?” Molly looks to Caleb.

“Yes, the mansion can last for 24 hours. And. We all actually remembered to give them fake names, this time, so… we should be relatively okay.”

“You could be a ‘Tessa’, by the way.” Fjord grins at Yasha. “That’s a good one.”

Yasha smiles a little.

“OKAY,” Beau says, getting to her feet. “I for one got the crap beat outta me while they were haulin’ us around, so can we scrap a family dinner and do a breakfast thing tomorrow instead?”

“Fine by me,” Jester says. “Caleb, did you add the things I asked for?”

“I added all the things,” Caleb promises. “I, um.” His eyes meet Molly’s, very briefly, and it’s one of the few times in the last few days that Molly has seen a brief flash of that shyness, that awkward hopefulness that proves Caleb remembers their last night here. “Hopefully everything is to your liking… if you don’t mind, I am feeling quite tired as well.”

“I’m going to try not-eggs tomorrow,” Yasha promises, and they begin to scatter, some raiding the kitchen and others filing up the stairs.

**

Molly opens his door to the smell of that familiar incense burning. The first thing that he notices is that there’s a new full length mirror directly across from him - he walks in and locks the door, hanging his coat on a peg, and walks over to his reflection.

He looks tired, his hair looks mussed… he thinks back to the combs and brushes in the wash room. But.

Slowly, his fingertips reach out and trace over the frame of the mirror. Gold leaf curlicues are amber colored in the warm candle light. It’s beautiful.

Molly takes a breath, undressing in front of his reflection and hanging his clothes over one of the three panels. He doesn’t look so bad now, just a minor bruise on his thigh that he feels more than sees. He walks over to the small tea table, grabbing a biscuit off the platter, and admires the whimsical windmill shape before trying a bite. Nice. He pops the whole thing in his mouth, chewing as he moves to the dresser. He thought he remembered it being hip-high… this one is full sized, with two tall doors. He pulls open the right and finds small dresser drawers along the bottom, mostly empty, but the topmost one has silk pants and shorts in black, with silver drawstrings. There’s also a matching long-sleeve shirt that buttons in the front, and a sleeveless one, both with silver trim along the sleeves. Caleb’s taste runs simple, Molly thinks, but the fabric is luxurious, ideal for sleep, and this is the only kind of monochrome clothing he thinks he’d ever accept. He pulls out the shorts and the sleeveless shirt, tossing them onto the bed, and then opens the left door.

There are no drawers.

It is a male dress form with head included, its stand only a few inches high to allow it to fit in the space. The dress form’s head has cloth lined horns that match Molly’s exactly, every twist and curve, and they’re adorned in tiny rings and delicate chains wrought out of warm gold. 

The dress form is adorned in… much the same.

It’s not clothing, per se. It’s body chains. It’s tiny, intricate chains draping down beneath the shoulders. There’s a chain running down the center, splitting above the navel and connecting to draping lines across the hips, like a belly dancer, like, like…

This is for Molly

Someone made this for  _Molly_.

Molly moves closer and stares at how it all glitters in the light. The longer he looks at it the more sure he is that the dress form is him, too, his measurements, not just a generic form you’d see in the window of a fancy shop. He reaches out and touches the planes of the chest, the gentle slope underneath his rib cage, and there’s no question, it’s him.

Fuck the silk pajamas. Molly jogs to the bathroom, digging in the fancy little bowls until he finds a wide comb and - and and there’s  _a new_  one, a new bowl, not matching the other white china ones with little flowers but a brass one, larger, with amethysts bordering the rim, and in it are pots and bottles and most of them look like what Molly saw at the luxury and beauty shops, and some of it - he starts opening things wildly, setting them back down anywhere there’s room on the cabinet shelves and reaching for the next thing - one is slick, one is body oil that smells like tea tree, one is lipstick, and it’s  _purple_ , the shop didn’t have fucking purple, Caleb stole every damn thing that shop had that was worth stealing, and, and tweaked it for Molly, he -

Molly takes a breath. Caleb’s spoiling  _everyone_. Jester has a room full of sweets. Yasha asked for a bear skin rug because she missed the smell of them. Nott has a small treasury in jewels.

He grounds himself for a moment and finds that he’s been gripping a pot of rouge tightly enough in his hands to leave indentations of the glass edges in his palm. He sets it down, starts organizing the mess he made, and begins to think methodically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I please direct you to the AMAZING artistic rendering over at [arista’s blog](https://aristathelia-art.tumblr.com/post/175721653820/this-is-my-part-of-an-art-trade-with-the-fantastic)? Because. YEAH.


	13. Chapter 13

Molly is halfway through his grooming routine when he remembers the comment about the lion tapestry.

Setting the gold eyeliner and brush down, he wanders back into the bedroom, looking at the wall hanging in the corner. He doesn’t see anything different about it, but to be fair, he didn’t pay much attention to it the first time he saw it. It looks like a reared-back, roaring beast you might see on a flag, but stitched with yellow and and orange and gold threads, with ferocious red eyes that sort of remind Molly’s of his own. He fiddles with the tassels at the bottom, finally tugging it a little and surprised to find a small door behind it.

It lays perfectly flat, the ring-shaped handle embedded in the door so as to not stick out and bulge from behind the tapestry. The door’s also about two feet from the ground, so as to not stick out at the bottom, and… there’s a brass turning lock that immediately reminds Molly of Caleb’s conversation with Nott that first night.

The corridor so they could visit each other, with locks so they wouldn’t walk in on each other by accident. Caleb made a second one.

Molly bites his lip and fights the urge to open it now, to see what the corridor looks like, to find Caleb immediately and… and thank him for all this, to ask him how long he’s been thinking about  _chains_ , about the horn jewelry Molly mentioned wearing before, that was too fragile to wear daily, and…

Molly pushes his hair back and lets the tapestry fall back into place, returning to the wash room and finishing his makeup.

He picks up the eyeliner brush and makes quick work of it, then considers the rouge, almost immediately deciding to skip it - never been his favorite - and moving on to the lip colors. There are several, the lightest one being about a shade and a half darker than his lips. Just enough. He paints it on and presses his lips together, smiling at himself in the mirror and taking his time back on the way to the closet.

The gold chains are just as good at second glance. He starts to remove his horn jewelry, arranging it in an empty drawer, slowly replacing it with what’s on the dress form. It takes a couple trips to the mirror to get just right, but it sounds  _amazing_  when he moves, light and just faintly metallic, and each little ring sits perfectly as if it were fitted. Each length of chain drapes just enough. 

Molly decides this is probably the strangest thing he’s ever gotten an erection over, but he has no plans to feel anything but anticipation.

Moving back to the dresser, he examines the front of the ensemble, then spins the dress form around - ah. There’s a tiny S-hook at the nape of the neck, and then another on the side of each thigh. He delicately opens each one, pulling the piece off the dress form and listening to the soft hiss of gold chains against cotton fabric, then the quiet tinkling as it comes free and hangs on its own weight.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, because he’s  _so_  hard now, and it’s not going to physically get in the way of putting this on, but it’s beyond distracting. He takes a deep breath and steps one foot into one leg opening, then the other, pulling them up and hissing as the cuffs at the thighs fit  _perfectly._  The draping chains at his legs skirt pleasantly against his skin. Molly fumbles for the two pieces that make up the neck, joining them together at the nape of his neck and then closing the last two S-hooks at the thighs.

He’s strangely afraid to look in the mirror.

“You’re going to look amazing,” he coaches himself.  _Caleb made this for you._  

Getting himself ready, he shifts his hips left, then right, lifting one foot behind him and then the other. As his thigh flexes, the chain cuff moves slightly but doesn’t seem to strain at the tension. Same with the other. The piece doesn’t impede his movement at  _all_ , actually, and it feels strangely like armor - he carries this thought with him as he walks to the mirror and - oh.

_Oh._

He has to find Caleb as soon as possible.

If he doesn’t, he’s going to do something stupid, like jack off to his own reflection, to the sight of him wearing all these - these  _presents_ , these little -

He  _is_  the present. He takes a breath, grabbing his coat off the hook and sliding it on, buttoning it up all the way from waist to throat. He strides back to the wash room and picks a few key items to keep in the bowl, carrying it with him at his hip. He shoves the lion tapestry back to switch the turning lock back.

The door on the other end  _must_  be unlocked.

He takes a breath and pushes the door inward, blinking to adjust to the low light of candles burning down in niches on either side of the tunnel. It’s like a secret passageway in a children’s storybook, but the floor’s flagstones are only slightly cool to the touch as he steps in, crouching and pushing the door shut behind him.

The light flickers, warm but faint, casting shadows on the stone walls. It’s… romantic.

Molly lifts his chin and walks along the soft curve, remembering what Caleb said about keeping the layout logical. No weird shortcuts. No dimension doors or similar. He feels fairly sure he’s walking well past Caleb’s bedroom, further and further away from the ‘center’ of the mansion, but it’s not long before he sees a door identical to his, the interior brass handle glimmering invitingly in the candlelight.

Switching his bowl to his other hip, he turns the handle, surprised by his relief when it turns completely and opens inward. There’s no light on the other side, but Molly remembers his own room’s tapestry and squints a little, smiling when he sees faint pinpricks of light reaching through some kind of cloth that’s covering the entrance. 

Where  _is_  this?

He gives the cloth a testing sort of nudge, making sure he’s not about to knock anything over or rip anything down, and is pleased to find that this tapestry must be hanging from a single peg, just as his is; it’s easy to swing from one side to another, and he grabs a handful of the fabric and holds it out of the way as he lifts a foot and steps into this new room. Fully out, he lets it fall back into place, looking around at…

…the most beautiful library he’s ever seen in his entire fucking life.

The ceilings are covered in beautiful, faded depictions of clouds suspended in a perfect blue sky, of mythical creatures flying among them, of lovers seated in front of sprawling greenery that rolls out to the horizon. The book shelves are all made of a dark wood, built in to the walls and lit by long windows on the opposite side of the room that almost seem to be letting in natural light. There is a map in the center of the room, occupying a large table that seems dedicated to its purpose, no doubt of the entirety of Exandria. Molly is standing at the end of the room, and at the other end, past the unoccupied tables, there is a man hunched over a desk.

Molly is going to ruin that man.

The tile floor under Molly’s bare feet is easy enough to walk on silently, and he’s  _seen_  Caleb in this state before - copying, it’s always copying, when he’s hunched over and turning rhythmically from one piece of paper to the other. He’s almost in another world when he does it. Original on the left, his copy on the right, nothing else exists. With all the new paper and ink, he can finally start working on the backlog of scrolls they’ve cobbled together on their journeys and start making use of them.

Except, not tonight.

Molly creeps over until he’s about five feet away, and waits until Caleb’s quill is neither in its well nor on the sheet. “Caleb,” he says softly. Caleb makes a startled sound and the quill does indeed fly up, a light arc of black dots staining the beautiful wood of the roll-top desk. No matter. This could be a real, permanent place and Molly would still feel perfectly happy destroying it tonight if that’s what it took.

“Mollymauk,” Caleb says, shocked and then pleased, eyes darting past him to the tapestry. “You found, um. You found the.”

“I found  _several_  things,” Molly says, voice low as he sets the bowl down on one of the studying tables. Caleb’s eyes hover on it a moment, trying to see what’s currently in it, and Molly tilts his head just a little more than he needs to to make the jewelry on his horns jingles pleasantly. As if on cue, Caleb’s eyes flit to Molly’s horns and light up.

“You like it!” He sounds  _surprised_ , Molly notes, and nervously happy. “I’m so glad.”

“I like  _all_  of it.” Molly makes sure he has Caleb’s full and complete attention before unbuttoning the top button of his coat, and then the next, and then the next, watching Caleb watch him, watching Caleb’s expression change to understanding, the tips of his ears and his face reddening in that familiar flush. When the coat is undone, he lets it fall from his shoulders to pool his elbows, enjoying the soft sound of the lining dragging against the metal chains as it drops.

“Fuck,” Caleb breathes.

Molly decides to hold his position for now. “Get up,” he says softly.

There’s barely a hesitation. Caleb sets his quill down without looking, reaching for the arm rest of his chair to push himself up on unsteady feet. His coat must be elsewhere, but he’s still in his shirt, trousers, boots. Not for long.

“Strip.”

Caleb blinks rapidly, not sure, but at the same time his hands have already moved up toward the hem of his shirt. Molly waits. It doesn’t take long; Caleb finally does pull his shirt tails out, pulls the garment over his head, and starts working his belt off. Molly watches as he throws each item carelessly into a pile underneath the desk he was working from, his boots knocking against the expensive tile as he throws them. When Caleb stands upright again, it’s just that necklace he always wears, a mess of red hair, and… Molly looks down, smiling as he sees Caleb has already started to get hard.

“Good,” Molly encourages, and lets his coat fall away completely. He drinks in Caleb’s reaction: his eyes go round and his mouth falls open a little. Molly’s tail swishes behind him as he lets the moment drag on, not wanting to rush exactly how much Caleb is enjoying looking at his gift. “Now. Back in your chair.”

“What?” Caleb looks to the chair and then to Molly, to the chair again. He’s clearly flummoxed when Molly doesn’t give him anything else to go on, no reaction or further words, but he has every motivation to stop asking questions. Trembling a little, he reaches out to the chair’s arm, turning it toward him and sitting back down carefully.

“Good boy.” Molly smiles at him, making sure his fangs show, as he saunters over (gods, the sound of the chains, he’ll  _never_  forget this sound) with no real rush.

Caleb’s hands flutter, awkward, not sure where to rest. Molly steps forward, letting his body sway just enough as he does it, finally bending over and gently pinning Caleb’s wrists to the arm rests.

“ _Molly._ ” He already sounds so wrecked. Molly could not be happier.

“Save your voice, darling.” Molly just barely lets his nose brush Caleb’s, breathing in some of his air before kissing his jawline, his throat, his sternum, lowering down in front of him and finally kissing his upper thigh. “You’re going to be screaming soon.”

“ _M-Molly_.”

When Molly’s on his knees, the chains along his thighs shift and rest so perfectly against his skin. The ones across his shoulders whisper as he leans forward, mouth poised over Caleb’s cock. “You’ve been so sweet to me,” he murmurs, and laps at the tip of Caleb’s erection until he feels the hard thud of Caleb’s head falling back. He suppresses a grin, keeping the smugness contained to the movements of his tail as he spreads Caleb’s knees apart (no resistance, totally given himself over) and moves in closer to lick down the shaft, along the thick vein and back up to the glans. Caleb tastes like sweat and salt and Molly hums in appreciation of the feel of the soft, firm skin against his tongue.

“Mmmh,” Caleb says helplessly, and somewhere in the back of Molly’s mind, where he is less of a performer, he wonders if Caleb has ever gotten sucked off before. He wonders what this would feel like, to be so exposed in what  _feels_  like a public space, having someone’s mouth on you for the first time. His own cock twitches and he pulls back just enough to look up at Caleb, at his tense stomach muscles, his lean chest, the vulnerable line of his throat and chin - the freckles, the light dusting of ginger hair over his chest, down his stomach, and back down to his cock… the look is slightly marred by the faint stains of purple Molly’s lipstick left with every kiss. How perfect.

“I like you like this,” Molly says, musing, pressing languid kisses purposefully up and down his length. “I think I’ll like you lots of ways.” Caleb makes a sound. “Was that a  _whimper?_ ” Molly’s teeth flash again. “Don’t suppress them. I like them too.” He dives back down, finally wrapping his lips around the head of Caleb’s cock and sucking down the first few inches. Caleb’s body tenses and he cries out, does it again when Molly strokes patient circles on his thighs and lowers himself down further.

“ _Götter,_ ” Caleb says weakly. Molly hums back, pulling up, lowering back down, taking his time with the basics in case Caleb’s at risk of falling apart too soon. He wants to drag this out, at least a little, and when he moves his hands from Caleb’s thighs up to his chest, he finally spots the first hints of Caleb beginning to move from his arranged spot.

“Ah,” Molly says, letting go with a pop and giving Caleb’s ribs a light smack. “Sit still for your present or you won’t get it.”

“You’re evil,” Caleb pants, barely getting the last word out. Molly glances up at his chest and notices two beads of sweat that have already formed - Caleb is very sensitive, or perhaps Molly is very good. He guesses it’s both.

“That’s what I’m told.” Molly fakes a pout, dragging one hand’s nails down Caleb’s chest as the other grips his cock firmly at the base. “But don’t you think I might be good?”

“Ah,” Caleb says, clearly unsure how to continue the game and desperate to do so. Molly digs his fingers in a bit and Caleb shivers, leaking precome as Molly gives him one long stroke upwards, thumb swiping languidly over the head. “Ah, Molly, bitte, Liebling-” Caleb bites his lip and groans as Molly takes Caleb in his mouth again, sucking gently, letting go again so he can run the flat of his tongue along the slit. “ _Bitte_ , m- mein- ich will dich so sehr-”

Molly is liking this part even more than he expected to. He shifts on his knees to keep them from getting sore, raising both hands now to scrape his nails over Caleb’s nipples, listening for the reaction - a soft hiss - and doing it again, a third time, finally pinching them as he lowers his head down as far as he can manage.

“Ahh _hhh_ ,” Caleb whines, and Molly feels him grip the arm rests tightly and buck up an inch or so out of his chair. Molly leans back a bit, not giving Caleb the satisfaction he’s looking for. “Molly, please, fuck,” His breaths are shuddering and quick, making Molly’s heart rate kick up even higher. “Please, you, you are so beautiful in that, you, I cannot,”

Suddenly curious, he slides off with a wet lick. “Do I look like you imagined? Because… you  _did_ imagine this, right? That’s the only way it could have been made.”

Caleb’s flushed and gasping and beyond denying anything at this point. “Every piece of it,” he admits, eyes on his for only a moment before trailing away. “I. I wanted you to love it.”

Molly feels his eyes gleam a little brighter than normal. “I do,” he murmurs, and digs his nails in Caleb’s thighs as he bends down again and sucks roughly on the head of Caleb’s erection.

“F- _fuck_ ,” Caleb says, much louder now, and Molly can hear the sound reverberate against the marble tile. It’s already starting. Molly starts to bob up and down, keeping his teeth back but otherwise letting himself go. “That is… that is so good… it feels… I am… I am going to…”

Molly is overwhelmed with the desire to see Caleb as this happens. He pulls off again, spitting into his right hand and smearing saliva and pre-come along the length of Caleb’s cock as the man groans and flexes in the chair.

“Will you come for me?” Molly asks softly, eyes gleaming. “Do you like  _your_  present?”

“Fuck, I, I,” Caleb whimpers again, knuckles white on the arm rests and one hand finally flying up to grip his own hair. Molly allows it, stroking him fast and rough watching him break apart. Caleb’s chest heaves, freckles almost lost to the red flush that’s covering more and more of his skin as Molly watches, and Caleb half-breathes something that must be in Zemnian before throwing his head back a final time, shaking and coming hard in Molly’s hand. Molly feels a faint roaring in his own ears as he rubs his lips against the tip of Caleb’s twitching cock, lets it smear over his cheek and throat, continuing to stroke, then gently massage, until Caleb’s completely spent.

The room is silent but for the sounds of Caleb’s desperate attempts for air. His right hand comes back to the arm rest, head lolling to one side and, eyes shut as he pants. He looks disheveled and wrecked and, in his unique way, extremely beautiful. Molly stays on his knees and admires the freckles returning as the flush recedes slightly, the slight shadow of a beard already beginning to reappear along his jawline, the round curve of his ear fading back to its normal pink. His mouth stays red, though, wet and inviting and giving Molly even more ideas. He tamps down those ideas for now and waits for Caleb to finish enjoying this moment.

After a few long moments, Caleb does finally blink his eyes open, looking down at Molly. Molly sees the exact moment Caleb’s eyes begin to track the ejaculate on Molly’s lips, cheek, throat, and what that does to Caleb, the flush creeping down lower again and his breathing not slowing quite so quickly any more. “That was incredible,” Caleb breathes.

Molly beams, resting his chin on Caleb’s knee and letting his tail swish perkily behind him. “I forgot to ask, are you busy tonight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please visit [the full size version](https://rathernoon.tumblr.com/post/184690565603) of rathernoon's glorious art, and compliment them on their fabulous work <3


	14. Chapter 14

Caleb breaks into a laugh. “No,” he says, breath stuttering a little. “I, I can copy later.”

Molly watches as Caleb makes a cursory job of closing his book and closing the ink well, leaning out of the chair to do it so as not to disturb Molly on his knee. The way Caleb’s hand fumble a little more than usual, the way he rushes, is endearing.

“We, ah,” Caleb clears his throat and, seeming to take a risk, strokes a hand through Molly’s hair. “We could go to my bed, if you would like?”

Molly gives him a significant look. “Is it the same bed as last time?”

“It is not,” Caleb says, laughing again. Molly gets up, picking his bowl up and sauntering to the door. He lets his hips and tail sway a little extra, knowing Caleb’s watching.

The bedroom is completely different. The table with the dish of candles is now a two-door cabinet, and the candles are on dishes around the room, casting warm ambient light from everywhere and making shadows flicker on the wallpaper.

Molly steps inside. There’s a thick animal hide rug that almost runs from corner to corner, warm and soft under his bare feet. The nondescript bed in the corner is replaced by a king-sized four poster with an ornate wooden headboard that faces the main door.. There’s also a day bed in the corner, and a tall dresser like Molly’s, and…

“This is  _so_  much better,” Molly breathes.

“I thought you would want to  _get on_  the bed, not just stare at it,” Caleb teases gently. Molly feels a warm body press up behind him, one hand sliding around to toy with his erection. Molly groans and tosses the bowl onto the corner of the bed before turning around and pulling Caleb backwards, onto the deep red sheets, where he can wrap his legs around the other man’s waist and get some  _friction_.

“ _So_ much better,” Molly repeats, and Caleb lets some of his weight settle on Molly, his lower abdomen warm and soft and  _perfect_  against Molly’s cock. Caleb slows down a little, which is disappointing in the moment, but Caleb is reaching for one of the bottles in the bowl -  _yes, good idea,_ Molly thinks - unscrewing it with one hand and drizzling it over Molly’s chest. The smell of tea tree floats up and Molly laughs, scooting up properly onto the bed and drawing his hands up over his head in a sign of permission. The chains across his shoulders and thighs rasp against the sheets.

Caleb follows after him and settles between his legs, stroking the body oil up to Molly’s biceps, down his collarbones, firm hands pressing and kneading and fingernails  _light_  over Molly’s nipples, making him whine and arch.

“Caleb,” he says, trying to find the right tone for ‘alluring’ and ‘not overly invested’ and missing it, definitely missing it. He tosses his head back to hide his expression as Caleb starts working the oil into his thigh, the drag of his fingertips sneaking back and forth under the chains doing  _something_  to Molly and making him squirm more, wanting those hands and that warm slickness on his cock. 

“You have no idea how you look,” Caleb murmurs, and starts on the next thigh. 

Molly’s tail lashes in frustration, striking the sheets, but he keeps his hands up near the headboard and lets Caleb tease him further. “Shiny, I’d expect.” When Molly moves, he could swear he felt Caleb’s erection bump into his knee. Is he  _already hard again?_ “Having-” He inhales sharply as Caleb’s palms sweep upward, over his hipbones, so close. “-some fun, yourself, there?”

Caleb’s biting his lower lip, staying on task until the oil is everywhere  _but_  where Molly wants it. When Caleb finally leans on one forearm to bend over Molly, other hand sliding over Molly’s abdomen and finally taking him in hand, Molly leans up to meet Caleb’s mouth and bucks into his hand. “Fuck,” Caleb breathes against his mouth.

Molly growls impatiently and uses his tail to yank Caleb’s thigh flat, causing the other man to fall on top of him. Caleb’s body is warm, his skin smooth, the light dusting of chest hair dragging pleasantly against Molly’s over-sensitized skin.

“Like  _this_ ,” Molly suggests, burying his face in Caleb’s neck and breathing in his smell as he starts to undulate his hips. Caleb’s body’s frozen a moment, then moves as well, and everything feels slick and warm and  _dirty_  from the oil, making Molly let out pleased little sounds he can’t quite stifle. The chains are starting to make a soft, rhythmic sound where they aren’t trapped between bodies. Caleb’s cock grinds needfully against Molly’s inner thigh, then alongside Molly’s as Caleb scrambles to get better aligned, closer. It’s so  _good_. It’s  _so_  good. Molly feels his tail holding onto Caleb’s thigh now, not keeping him in place but just being ridiculously possessive, there’s no-

“Mehr,” Caleb groans, spreading his knees a little further apart so he can press more weight against Molly’s body. Molly huffs out a shallow breath against Caleb’s ear, suddenly  _very_  invested in making him babble more. It takes a few tries to capture Caleb’s earlobe between his teeth with both of them moving, but it’s worth it, because he’s barely started sucking when Caleb’s hips piston hard and shove him down into the mattress. “ _Ja_ , Molly, fuck,”

Molly makes an encouraging sound and starts licking up the soft curve of Caleb’s ear. When Caleb’s hair falls and gets in his way, he makes an annoyed sound and brings his hands down to push it back and out of the way. He settles for sweeping it over Caleb’s neck and holding it there with a palm, the other light against Caleb’s jawline to keep him positioned right.

“Molly,” Caleb’s saying desperately, “fuck, ich glaube… ich liebe dich…”

“Yeah,” Molly agrees, not caring what it actually means just now. Caleb’s erection feels thick and wonderful against his stomach. The underside of Molly’s cock is rocking against slick warm oil and the softness of Caleb’s skin and the almost-roughness of Caleb’s pubic hair, and he can feel his balls starting to tighten, it’s- “Keep going, I’m going to-”

“ _Molly-_ ” Caleb’s movements get more erratic, more forceful, and Molly whines low in his throat and feels the buildup rise further and then suddenly overflow, it’s  _everything_ , every single movement against Caleb’s body feels like bliss as he comes and grips Caleb tight across his shoulders, around his thigh, and Caleb is saying something, is almost definitely coming too, it’s hard to tell but it’s so fucking good and Molly has to stop himself from biting Caleb’s shoulder because he’s not sure he wouldn’t  _draw blood_  right now.

Molly’s still coming down when he realizes Caleb’s shouting. He reaches between them, grabbing Caleb lightly and stroking him through the end of it, feeling the oil mix with come on his fingers as Caleb trembles above him. It goes for longer than Molly would have expected, and when Caleb’s finally spent, Molly lets him go and isn’t surprised at all when Caleb drops his entire weight on him, exhausted, sweaty, perfectly warm and comfortable.

Caleb’s face is pressed against Molly’s shoulder. “Sorry,” he says quietly.

“It’s nice,” Molly replies, much calmer but also still catching his breath. He gives them both a few moments. “What’d you say?”

“Huh?” Caleb crawls onto his forearms, tipping clumsily over onto his side.

“Just now, in Zemnian.” Molly laughs breathlessly, but Caleb looks a little caught out. “You don’t have to say. People say lots of things when they’re-”

“I- I just said, that I wanted your cock in me.” Caleb looks away and rubs at his face, nervous.

Molly feels a little thrill run through him. “I don’t see any good reason to be shy about that,” he breathes. “…unless you were just talking, that’s fine too.”

Caleb swallows. “I. Wasn’t.”

Molly blinks slowly, thinking about what it would feel like to push inside and watch Caleb’s expression while he does it. “Well,” he says, after a long pause, “you should voice your ideas more often, maybe. They’re good ideas.”

This seems to soothe Caleb’s nerves, and he looks back over, at Molly’s face, then his body. “We should, um. Clean up in the pool, I think.”

“See? Good idea.”

“Scheisse.” Caleb’s looking down at himself now. “The - is that -”

“Lipstick,” Molly chirps.

Caleb laughs. “I look like a mess.”

“You’ve never looked better,” Molly replies. “Actually, we.” He gestures to himself. “ _We_  have never looked better.”

Caleb lifts his eyebrows and looks like he’s about to say something in agreement, but he just smiles to himself and gets to his feet, unsteady at first slowly making his way to the wash room.


	15. Chapter 15

The pond is bigger, now a rough cone shape that becomes deeper as it gets wider. Molly unhooks the clasp at the nape of his neck, letting the chains fall to the moss floor - the tile is gone completely - and enjoying the soft metallic sounds as it crumples into a tiny handful of links. He kneels down, scooping it up to hang on a peg.

“It won’t have time to rust,” Caleb points out, moving past him and setting down a bowl of soaps and shampoos at the edge. He gives one last glance over the purple smears on his chest before stepping into the water.

“But it’s nice, and I like it.”

“It will not exist in 20 or so hours.”

“But I  _like_  it.” Molly lets himself sound jokingly sullen, which is a nice way to hide the genuine sullenness he feels at not getting to keep this gift. Caleb will probably make it over and over again if he asks, but that’s not the same as getting to  _keep_  it, to have it as one of those few sentimental things in his pack that he takes out sometimes and runs his fingers over.

Caleb slides into the water, inch by inch, until his shoulders are submerged and his feet are propped up on the little rise at the far end. Molly looks at him, steps in next to him, and slouches and scoots until he’s in the same position. The waterfall, right above their feet, makes the water tumble and shift over their calves. Molly groans out an appreciative sound.

“We can clean up properly in a minute,” Caleb mumbles, barely louder than the white noise of the room. Molly grunts noncommittally and looks at the fine china bowl, then at the water, then at Caleb. “Hm?”

“If you ever want to retire,” Molly says, “you can just. Open a traveling spa.”

Caleb seems to give it some serious consideration.

“The spell components aren’t terribly expensive,” Molly adds. “I don’t know why anyone hasn’t done it before.”

“Or, you know, portable dining halls.” Caleb scratches his chin. “You can let in lots of people at once… it does not take more exertion to give more people permission to enter, or to make more of the same food you have already thought out…”

“So we’ll do the spa for money, and then the dining hall for charity.”

“We?” Caleb looks over him and pretends to be suspicious. “You are sneaking in on my retirement plan?”

Molly pokes his tail out of the water to make a flippant gesture. “What, you’re going to do your own advertising? How will people know you’re in town if there isn’t someone noisy and brightly-colored shouting outside it?” He loses the thread of the conversation, twisting himself a little so the water can thud against the side of his calf. “Gods, Caleb, this is so  _good_.”

Caleb laughs softly.

“It  _is_ ,” Molly insists, watching as Caleb twists around and pulls the bowl into his lap to pick something out.

“It is probably my turn, hm?” Caleb holds up a little bar. “Sit up and turn around, I will sort out the jewelry and your hair.” Molly half complies, tucking his legs in and twisting to the side. Caleb can reach his hair and horns fine, but Molly gets to stay under the water. He closes his eyes; Caleb’s hands are gentle on his horns, easing the rings off and setting them down in the moss. The little pile of metal pieces clink and rustle as Caleb adds more. Finally, Molly hears Caleb’s hands cup the water, and then it’s pouring gently over his scalp, again and again.

Molly thought to do this for Caleb, but he realizes now he can’t remember ever experiencing it himself.

Caleb’s fingertips run through his hair, and then there’s the sound of the bowl, and then a wooden comb is stroking lightly at his scalp, clicking against his horns when Caleb doesn’t angle it around them quite right.

“Sorry,” Caleb murmurs.

“It’s fine,” Molly says back, barely audible. his entire body feels cocooned by the water and the light touches are… not overwhelming, exactly, but  _centering_ , bringing everything to just that point on his skin.

It doesn’t take long to comb his hair out, but Molly tilts his head back a little further when Caleb starts to comb all the way from top to bottom. Caleb seems to get the hint, continuing across his scalp and then setting the comb aside and submerging something in water. A little bar. When Caleb’s hands come back they’re lathered in something that smells familiar, something light and flowery, and when Caleb sets both thumbs at the nape of Molly’s neck and sweeps them upwards, pushing in, Molly lets out a soft, vulnerable sound that he did not expect.

“What is it?” Molly says, because he needs the last sound to have been something he did on purpose.

“From the shop Jester took us to… this is the only smell they had that you seemed to like. The flower is, um, Geißblatt, but I. I do not remember the Common word for them.” Caleb’s quiet as his fingertips sweep through Molly’s hair, careful and slow and  _very_  light when they come to the spot where his horns begin. “Can I?”

“Yeah.” Molly squirms and sits up slowly, tilting his head back, giving Caleb more access and allowing him to put a little more muscle into it. “They don’t feel anything.”

Caleb makes a quiet acknowledging sound and finishes lathering Molly’s hair, gathering it into some sort of order before coming back and stroking up his scalp with fanned fingers, up the back to the beginning of Molly’s horns, stroking gently at the edges of them where the flesh turns hard. His hands slow there; taking in the details, Molly guesses.

“Have you ever touched someone’s horns before?”

“No.” Caleb stops when Molly tilts his head toward a particularly good touch, then repeats his action several times. Molly lets out a slow breath. “Bull, and boar, yes, but those are smooth. And light colored.” Molly hears, more than feels, the pads of Caleb’s fingers running over the shallow ridges on Molly’s left horn.

“Mine are less functional and more ornamental.”

“Especially after you cover them in jewelry.”

“You  _like_ my jewelry,” Molly points out.

Caleb is quiet for a moment. Molly wonders if he accidentally made him feel a bit cornered. “I do,” the man says finally. Molly feels rough fingertips stroke back behind his ears, along the shell and to the very tips, back down again to the hinge of his jaw.

“Mmm.” Molly’s tail swishes under the water and wraps loosely around Caleb’s ankle. He feels as the man turns, bending one leg up on the stone bench to face Molly more directly and get closer. The sudsy hands move down his neck, sweep over his shoulders, far too lightly. Molly grumbles and scoots a little further back to encourage the hands to dig deeper. He’s almost sitting on Caleb’s calf now.

“Okay, okay.” Caleb sounds almost like he’s talking to Frumpkin, affectionate and soft, and Molly decides he can deal with that similarity as Caleb’s hands dig in deeper now, working his muscles and making Molly let out short little breaths of satisfaction.

Molly’s not sure how much time passes - he knows that several times it seems like Caleb is about to stop, hands and wrists probably tired, but he begins again, sweeping his fingertips out lightly and passing over the faint ridges of all the little scars, and Molly nearly falls asleep sitting up. When Caleb’s hands do finally pull back, Molly tips backward carefully, minding his horns, to lean his head back on Caleb’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to move,” Molly confesses. His tail is still hooked around Caleb’s ankle and he doesn’t feel any inclination to let it go.

“This is… very comfortable.” Caleb’s fingertips brush against Molly’s cheek, moving a few strands of his own wet hair off of Molly’s face. Molly leans into it, heartbeat stuttering a little as he imagines how romantic this must look from the outside. He suppresses a weird spike of … fear, probably. He should just admit that it’s fear.

Molly breathes in deeply, the smell of sweat and sex and oil and Geißblatt blooms, and lets himself turn just a little more toward Caleb’s face. 

“My bed…” Caleb says quietly. His voice is so pleasant and deep, very close. Molly shifts closer until Caleb has to move his hands, and to Molly’s pleased surprise, they wrap loosely around him, hesitant, as if he’s not sure it’s allowed. “…is much closer than yours, if you would prefer to sleep there tonight.”

Molly feels something warm and new and very gentle blooming in his chest.

“If you like,” Caleb adds, already walking it back. “It is big enough, now, to accom-”

“Yes,” Molly interrupts. His nose brushes against the hinge of Caleb’s jaw and he takes a breath before pressing his lips to it.  “Yes, let’s do that.”


End file.
